Growing Up in the Dark
by Fantasy Cat
Summary: It's a VERY unpleasant life in the other reality, where children like Peter Bishop are treated no better than animals. AU...or is it?
1. Cell 'P'

_I should be working on other stupid stuff, but I decided that I can no longer wait to post the start of this dark story I advertised in my other fic. I couldn't wait to see my inbox fill with more Review Alerts. ;) Feel free to help anytime by reviewing this or my mammoth fic "Eternal Weaving". Like I said, with my schedule, expect updates to only happen in the weekend region. _

**Disc:** _I don't own Fringe or its characters. But I've been writing so many fics for it, it saddens me so!_

**Setting:**_ This is set in the __other reality__. Note that Walter is EVIL in this story because this is the other-world Walter. Not the Walter-Walter who we all know is good but insane in the brain. It's all part of the darkiness of this fic. Don't want to spoil anymore than that._

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In the darkness of his 6x8 cell that would become his new home, Peter Bishop would regret the day that he had wished to meet his father…and he was only 9 years old.

Peter spent much of his childhood cooped up in his mother's house. He rarely got to see other kids. There never seemed to be many in his neighborhood for some odd reason. So his playtime was mostly consisted of his own imagination and his high intellect.

All he knew about his father was that he was known as "Doctor". Peter immediately thought that daddy must be a people doctor, one who takes care of others when they're sick. When he learned that daddy worked with children, it made Peter even happier. Perhaps he would not only get to see his father in practice, he would finally get to meet other children his age that he would hardly get to see.

His mother had little money, barely a dime to send him to a gifted school where he truly belonged. She couldn't cope with caring or supporting Peter and it was slowly showing as summertime came along. Unable to afford a babysitter, she would have no choice but to leave her son in the custody of his father while she worked.

Little did Peter know that finally meeting the "Doctor" would bring about the end of his innocence.

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His mother would drive him every morning to a gated compound outside of the city, hidden and isolated in the countryside. None of it seemed warm and welcoming, and it certainly did not look like a children's hospital. There were even Dobermans prowling the premises.

The "Doctor" (referred to here as "Dr. Walt") seemed like a messed up and mentally unstable man who was unhappy to see Peter. He had psychotic odd behaviors that frightened the poor boy. There was another doctor at the compound that was just as scary, if not moreso, whom the adults only referred to as "Bell."

Peter was placed all day everyday in an abandoned office in the basement of the main building. He was to remain in that small room or (as Dr. Walt warned him) there would be extreme punishment. It was pathetic. Peter was trapped in that small office all day. There was a television and a couch for watching and a connected bathroom he could use at least. But the isolation totally sucked and he never got to meet the children that his father claimed to work with.

This was the norm as the days went by. An assistant would come by around noon and bring a meal and some other snacks to keep him full during the day. He was more than relieved when his mother would finally come and get him every night…usually by 6pm. When driving away from the compound, Peter would often look back and see a dark shadow loom over the entire place. It made him look less forward to having to come back every time.

As the days went by, Peter would bring with him toys and books to keep himself occupied in the office. He even found a way to hook up his complicatedly-wired video game system to the TV. After that, he was set.

One day however, Peter realized that he was playing too much video games. He finally defeated his most difficult game although it took him days to do so. His stomach started growling.

He checked the clock and realized that it was 7:30pm.

This was strange…his mother was NEVER late. And damn, was he starving. He had to eat a bag of potato chips for dinner. Now he was groaning and a bit worried about his mother. She had been acting strange and distant from Peter after all, as if she was being quite hesitant about something.

Peter wanted answers. Still, he didn't want to anger his estranged father by stepping out of the room. The phone in the office was dead. No matter how many attempts his genius brain would try to fix the old rotary, it couldn't be done. Instead he occupied himself by watching primetime television, the stuff that his mother wouldn't let him watch at home.

It was now around 11:30 when the late night talk shows were on. He was still trapped in the office…ready to fall asleep on the couch.

Then he started hearing unusual noises similar to a bug zapper. The lights in the room began to flicker on and off. It frightened Peter. He never had to remain in a situation like this so alone and so late at night.

Suddenly all the lights in the rooms went off along with the television leaving Peter in total darkness. He was about to cry when he saw flashes of light coming through the small window in the room. There was no boom to accompany it so it couldn't have been a thunderstorm.

He got on top of a table by the window so he could peek out. Something was not right about ANY of this. There was one other building that Peter could see through the window and that became the source of the flashing lights. He could see powerful electrical surges spark and ignite from inside that building from a few windows. In the other windows, window could see orange flashes of light, flickering like fire.

Fire and lightening inside of one building? It was a frightening image that Peter did not need in this darkness. Where was his mother?! Why had she not come for him yet?! Perhaps all the zapping and disturbing noises in that building was of a factory at work. He wasn't sure. He didn't know if he wanted to be sure.

Then he heard something a bit more high-pitched. He didn't want to bet his life on it but it was quite clear. They were screams. Peter shuddered when he realized…no adult could scream in a high pitch like that…

…those were the screams of children coming from that building.

Peter couldn't take it anymore! He had to get out of here! So he ran to the office door. It was locked obviously. He dug through the drawers of the office desk until he found paper clips. The upside of being a boy genius was knowing how to use these tools when needed. Too bad his father was never around to realize this.

He unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway. It was empty and dark. He could hear rapid movement coming from the floor above him. Peter wanted nothing more than to go up there, but he couldn't see where he was going in the darkness.

Much to his shock, the lights suddenly came back on in that hallway and standing before Peter…was Dr. Walt, a VERY angry Dr. Walt. Peter could sense the outrage and was quivering, on the verge of tears. He could've ran straight back into the office if he wanted to, but he was too scared to move.

"I told you to stay in the office!" Dr. Walt growled. "What do you think you're doing?!"

"I…" Peter was unable to answer.

"You'll have to answer for this now!" Dr. Walter grabbed Peter painfully by the shoulder and dragged him upstairs.

Peter couldn't muster the courage to give his father an answer until they got to the first floor. "I heard kids screaming."

"That's none of your concern."

"What are you doing to them?!"

"BE QUIET!"

Dr. Walt had taken Peter and threw him into a small closet. "You're to remain here until morning…when we decide what to do with you!" Dr. Walt slammed the door on his boy and blocked it to ensure he didn't try to break out.

Peter didn't know what else to do but to bang on the door calling out for the Doctor as "Daddy". But now he had his doubts about this man being his father. Daddies wouldn't resort to locking up their children in the dark, scared and alone.

From inside that closet Peter could still hear those strange noises…and the screams of the children now much closer, much louder. These sounds would force him to stay awake in that dark closet with no sleep…and no mother…to comfort him.

But eventually, he did fall asleep…only to be woken up by the door opening. Dr. Walt and Bell were there, looking down on him.

"Your mother…" Dr. Walt said coldly. "Has abandoned you. She has left the state."

Peter was stunned. His mommy? Gone? His mommy left him?!

Bell gave a malicious smile as he asked the boy. "Do you know what the law says about children who are abandoned in this state, Peter?"

He shook his head, eyes tearing up in fear…too scared to speak.

"There are many states in the country where scientists are allowed to do anything they wish with various subjects. This is a facility where we experiment with children…children who are abandoned. People come here to willingly give their offspring to us so that we own them…use them in the name of science."

The boy just stood there confused by the doctor's words.

"Your mother has abandoned you," said Bell. "Therefore we have a right to make you a part of our work."

Peter looked to Dr. Walt, a man he barely knew, but a man whom he shared his blood with. "Da…"

Dr. Walt did not respond. He showed no emotion when a pair of assistants grabbed his sole kin. Bell and Dr. Walt led them out of the main building and across the compound. The Dobermans got angsty at the sight of the small child but Bell commanded them to stay back.

There was a long cold concrete building with no windows that they went into. Once they got inside, Bell opened a large cold steel door to reveal a dark narrow hallway. That's when the horrifying sound began to echo from within…

…the moans and cries of children.

Peter was dragged passed a long row small metal doors, all lined up along the same side. There were no windows but he could distinctively hear them, boys and girls crying in pain…some banging on the doors, screaming to be let out.

Each of the 26 doors was marked with a letter…starting with "A", then "B", then "C", and so on.

Much to Peter's horror, the group paused and Bell opened one metal door…a door with a big "P" on it. "This is your future now, boy." Without a spare moment to protest, Peter was thrown in. By the time he turned back to the door, it had been slammed shut on him.

All he could do was focus on that door that encased him inside this cramped dark space. "Daddy!!!"

Peter banged on the door mercilessly. He already knew though that his situation was just as hopeless for him as it was for the other children he knew were near. "Don't do this, daddy!!!"

His cries seem to be only ones he could hear. One would think that perhaps the other children were silenced by shock. He was calling out to one of them as his father after all. Nothing would come as more traumatic to a child than the idea of being imprisoned by a parent.

But now it was happening…to the young and gifted Peter Bishop no less. To be treated no better than an animal in a small cage, frightened, abandoned, and alone…

"DAAAAAAADDYYYYYYYYY!!!"


	2. Cell 'O'

_**Ehh...don't you hate it when you know where a story you're writing is going but your brain is just too lazy to write out the scene perfectly?...okay maybe it's just me heh.**_

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Peter responded to life in the cells no different than the other children would. He would spend hours kicking against the steel door screaming. The cell was small and far from spacious. He could easily reach the ceiling. All he had in that tiny windowless box was a cot that took over one side of the room, and on the other side, just a few feet across, was a child's toilet. By the door was a strange button. Peter pressed it and a small shoot of water would spray his face.

It was suffocating in that room…nauseating even. But worse, it was dark. There was a small bit of light that shined above the door. But it went out a few hours later. Peter realized that he was the only one still screaming and he began to cry. The other children…they were probably sleeping. They've been here long enough to give up and adjust to their new life of imprisonment.

After another hour of crying, Peter heard more noise. Footsteps. A door opening and then a child screaming, crying to be let go. He would hear this about every hour for almost an entire day. Children were being taken from their cells. Peter wondered however, if they even come back.

He emptied the pockets of his clothes trying to find something that would help him. All he had was a few pieces of candy he pocketed just before everything went to hell. He hid them away in a corner of the room. (He had a feeling that the food here was not going to taste very pleasant.) Then, he pulled something from one of his larger pockets, a small pair of safety scissors.

The boy smiled for the first time in this 'cage'. This could be his only means of getting out of this hellhole. Of course, digging a hole out of this cell would be impossible but he was a genius. Maybe, he would find a way to make it work…like that man on TV, MacGyver.

The floor of the cell was concrete; rough enough to scrape knees and the walls were brick. Although Peter couldn't see in the near darkness of his cell, he felt the brick walls were filled with many cracks. They were old and falling apart. This would work in his favor. He would take his safety scissors and chip away at the weak cracks he could feel in the wall. Given the weak blade, he knew this would take some time, days even.

He heard the footsteps again…they were getting closer this time. Peter immediately stopped his work and threw the pair of scissors under his bed.

The door opened and Dr. Walt, far from being Peter's father, along with two assistants came in and grabbed Peter dragging him out of the room.

Before he knew it, Peter was in a medical-looking room and strapped to a table. Dr. Walt strapped a blue looking bracelet to his ankle. While a lab assistant took two large metal clips and clipped one to each of Peter's ears. Each clip had several large wires attached to it that stretched across the room.

The doctors were now looking in on Peter from behind a glass wall. Peter was left alone.

"Subject P is be too old to be injected with Cortexiphan," said a voice over a monitor. "So we will make him a testing target."

Peter began to shake and cry. Whatever they meant by testing target, he knew it was a bad thing…a VERY bad thing.

The lights in the room began to flicker and a massive wave of electricity went through Peter. He gave a loud scream…calling for his mother, his abandoner, every other second.

When it was all over, Peter could still feel the electricity flowing into his body like a buzz. He was crying very hard. The next thing he knew, Peter was then thrown into a strange tiled room. There was a small wooden door ahead of him. He cautiously opened the door and was instantly sprayed with a blast of water, the water had a strange clean like smell to it. It was a shower room. But by the time, Peter had realized this, his clothes had become completely soaked. He was trapped in that shower room for about 3 minutes and then was hit with a blast of hot air that lasted for one more minute. It dried most of him but he was still feeling a bit soaked under his clothes.

He was finally able to open the door again after the shower room went quiet. But he didn't expect to find one of the assistants standing there looking very angry.

The man pulled painfully at Peter's ear. "You idiot! Clothes aren't to be worn in the shower!" He then gave Peter a dry set of clothing with shoes, they were of a very gray color and looked very worn out. "Change into these and then come out!"

Peter was left to change. He was glad that he managed to empty his pockets of his old clothing earlier. He knew he would be stuck wearing these dull gray sweats for as long as he was here. He tried to removed the blue ankle bracelet but it wouldn't budge. When he looked at it closely he saw the letter P etched in.

The bracelet had become his permanent mark.

Hours and days would go by. Peter continued his efforts to chip away at one part of the wall. All the while…the strange experiments the doctors would put him through continued. They seemed to be burning him through his insides though he would've been dead by now if such was the case.

"Hey."

Peter went silent. It was a young boy's voice he was hearing. He was close to reaching the cell next door. "Who is that?" the boy called.

Peter leaned down by the small hole he made. "I'm Peter. Who are you?"

"I'm subject 'Q' but my real name is 'Quincy'. You must be the new subject 'P'".

"Yeah. How d'you know?"

"You've been screaming for days, calling one of those doctors 'Daddy'. Why?"

Peter sighed. "He's my dad". Quincy went silent from shock.

"What are they doing to us?" asked Peter.

"Different things for everybody. My parents dumped me here a year ago. They put me in a room with some other kids…and they hurt me. The other kids. They have powers. The adults make them hurt me."

Peter was shaking. "Why?"

"Some kids spent their whole lives here. Not like me. Not like you. They don't scream or cry to be let out. They gave up."

"But why do they make them hurt you?"

"I dunno," said Quincy. "Maybe to kill me."

That was how the conversation ended for a little while. The two boys would make small talk in the dark about the place they were in, complain about the nasty glop that was brought into their cells as food, and about possible escape routes. Peter still had a good memory about what the buildings look like from outside. He even told Quincy about his pair of scissors which might help in the escape process.

In turn, Quincy told him about what to expect. Peter had yet to personally see any of the other kids or have them use their "powers" to try to kill him like they did with Quincy. The thought terrified him.

But at least now, Peter had an ally in the miserable place. A possible friend he could escape this place with. It would make him feel a little bit better if he couldn't save all the kids here…he might be able to at least save one other.

It wouldn't last though...

The next day Peter could hear Quincy come back to his cell crying and screaming.

"Quincy?"

"MAKE IT STOP!!!"

"Quincy?!"

"IT BURNS!!! IT BURNS!!!"

Quincy continued to scream while Peter listened, helpless to console or calm him down.

After another hour, things in cell 'Q' next door went deadly silent.

Peter waited like a predator in the grass, by his hole, whispering for Quincy a few times but getting no response. A few hours later, he could hear the door to cell 'Q' open. Footsteps and then voices.

"Well you got to admit. Subject 'Q' has been putting up quite a fight since he was brought here."

"Yes, well…now it means that our killer subjects are getting better. Take this one to the crematory then."

After a few more minutes the door to cell 'Q' closed. Peter knew that his friend was no longer there…

…nor was he ever coming back.

Desperation overwhelmed Peter now as he searched his entire cell for another weak spot in the walls. He took his scissors and began chipping away at the back corner on the other wall. There were lots of cracks in this particular area. It would hopefully take a shorter time to form a small hole.

Still, he was pounding the wall and the floor in frustration. Taking too many breaks to cry. This time around, he chose not to sleep. He wanted out of this place. He didn't care what he had to do. He thought perhaps that chipping at the corner would allow him to break more brick.

The lack of sleep was getting to him. He was chipping at the wall more than he was the corner without realizing it. A hole began to slowly form seeping into the other cell, cell 'O'.

"Hello?" Peter called out through the hole curiously. He didn't like how silent things were in the other cell. "Someone in there?"

For a moment, Peter could've sworn that he heard rustling.

"What are you doing?" The voice was soft and deep…sounded like a girl.

"I'm trying to get out of this place," Peter responded.

"You shouldn't," said the girl. "You'll only get in bigger trouble."

Peter could tell by the low tone of this girl's voice (and given how silent she was), that this child had been here for quite a while. She sounded almost broken-spirited.

Then he remembered what Quincy told him…about the children who never screamed.

"Are you…" Peter asked nervously. "Are you a…killer?"

"Don't…" she said. "How dare you call me that!"

"But that's what Quincy told me."

"Quincy?"

"He was in the cell next to me…I think he's gone."

The girl was silent for a moment. "You're new here, aren't you? I don't think you should talk to me anymore. You'll get hurt."

"But…"

"No. Shut up! Leave me alone!"

Peter was upset until he remembered his small pile of candy. He took a piece, a butterscotch toffee. The hole was just small enough for it to fit.

"I have candy!" Peter said in a cheerful manner. He feared the girl would be angry for being bothered again but she said, "What's candy?"

"You know…candy! You don't know what candy is?"

"I…" The girl was sounding nervous. "I think…you can eat it right? I think I ate some before…when I was a baby."

Peter shoved the piece of toffee through the hole. He wasn't sure if the sweet treat was even going to be touched, but then he heard a crunching noise. "Ow!"

Peter chuckled. "You don't bite it."

The girl was agitated. "Then how do I eat this stupid thing?"

"Keep it on your tongue and let it melt."

"That's stupid," she said.

"But it taste good right?"

"It…it tastes nice."

The boy smiled. The candy worked…allowing a sort of treaty between the two children. Hopefully she would be more willing to open up to him now.

"So who are you?"

"Subject 'O'".

"No, your name! What's your name?"

"I don't have a name. I have a letter like you. You're letter is 'P' cause you're right next to me."

Peter was getting frustrated. "I'm not 'P'. I'm Peter. Peter Bishop. And Quincy was 'Q'. You're in cell 'O'…so your name starts with an 'O', right?"

"I dunno."

"Whaddya mean, you don't know?!"

"I think it does. It's been years since I had a name."

"Oh come on," Peter whined. "You gotta remember!"

"Wait, I think it was…"

"…yeah?"

Although he couldn't see it, he could sense a smile, a positive aura coming from the girl on the other side of the wall.

"It's Olivia…I think my name's Olivia."


	3. Escaping

Times outside of the cell weren't getting any better for Peter, and trying to break free from inside was becoming more hopeless than it ever was. Still, much to his surprise, Olivia was still in the cell next door. He had her company to keep him sane at least.

Olivia had been living at the facility for four years now, long enough to get use to how things were done around here.

"It stops hurting after a while," she said.

"But what is it?" Peter asked very worried. "What do they make you do?"

"I don't wanna talk about it." Aside from being broken, Olivia was also angry and bitter, understandable for a child in their situation. But she was only 7 years old. She couldn't have been as dangerous as she claimed to be, Peter thought.

Peter didn't understand why she wanted to be alone in a difficult dark place such as this. He felt it was a bit dangerous to coax her anymore than needed. He tried to bribe her with more candy only for her to take and to tell him to "shut up" or "go away". Even if she was next door, Peter still felt alone and slowly he was starting to give up on talking to her.

He had a day off from all the painful testing he was subjected to (mostly consisting of electric shocks, being hooked to car batteries and the like). So when he heard weeping in the dark, weeping that was not his own, it sounded almost too surreal.

It was coming from her.

Peter crawled over to the hole. "Olivia?"

Her cries weren't ceasing. "'Livia, what's wrong?"

He heard her choke her sobs back. "I…I didn't want to. They made me do it!"

"Do what?" Peter asked nervously. His body was shaking in response to her words. "What did they make you do?"

There was silence on the other end and then. "I…" She choked back more tears. "I killed someone."

"You what?"

"I killed a boy. I didn't want to kill him. But they make me…they tell me I have to. I try not to, but they still die. It's always my fault…"

"Livvy?"

"Please," she warned him. "Leave me alone. Just stay away before I hurt you too!"

Peter shyly scurried away from the hole and crawled back into his own cot.

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Olivia could only curl herself in a fetal position, thinking how many times they had to make her do this…Nothing had changed since the first time she had to do something like this. She didn't want to hurt the little boy and yet no matter what she did, the boy died anyway.

"_I can't hurt it," she pleaded with the doctors. "Please…"_

"_This isn't up for discussion," Dr. Bell argued. "The kitten is too sick to live as it is. We're only asking to make the death for it easier."_

_Little Olivia was convinced that this was a lie. "No! I won't!" She felt a sudden painful shock from the pink ankle bracelet she wore with 'O' etched in. Having felt this pain before, Olivia bit her lip to hold the pain in. It would get easier with time, she always knew that. But having to hurt an innocent creature was far worse, in her opinion, than herself getting hurt._

_As much as she resisted doing so, the helpless kitten was still rolling on its back, writhing in pain. The mewling was too much for Olivia to bear. She banged on the heavy-duty glass box that the kitten was confined in. "STOP! You're hurting it!"_

"_No, subject 'O'," said Bell. "You are."_

"_No, I'm not," she cried. She wanted it to stop. She never even wanted it to begin. She tried to will her mind to stop the kitten's suffering but no matter what she did, nothing seemed to be working. The kitten was mewling harder and harder. Its head seemed to be growing bigger but it was merely the top of its skull pushing it's way out of the animal's skin._

"_NO!!!"_

_The kitten's head seemed to have cracked. A small explosion of its brains splattering the insides of the glass box._

"_We're still not making headway," Bell said to his associates over Olivia's immense sobs. "She's still having trouble controlling her abilities."_

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One night, Peter heard muffling and other discomforting sounds from Olivia's cell. He listened quietly again…wondering if Olivia had killed someone else. He had a hard time believing that this little girl was one of his father's "killer subjects". And if she was, then Olivia was a killer who had a lot of remorse.

He then heard something that made him froze…made him shake all the way to his toes.

"It burns…it burns."

Sadly he wasn't hallucinating. He could hear Olivia softly moaning these words. He hoped that she was mumbling to herself in a bad dream. The pain didn't sound nearly as horrifying as Quincy made it before he…

…but then again Olivia learned to cope with the pain. Soon Peter would too. He turned away from that wall and faced the other as he slept. _'She wasn't a bad person,'_ he thought.

Much like Olivia, he was starting to succumb to hopelessness…no longer caring for an escape plan…no longer caring for a friend in here to share a little hope with.

He had already lost two of them.

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He didn't even put up a fight when the adults came and took him out of his cell. It seemed like another standard day of testing how much electricity they could zap into his body without frying his organs this time. But he began to feel nervous when he was thrown in a very large white circular room.

The door immediately closed in on him and he was alone. He looked down and saw that there was a large green line that divided the room.

The height of the room stretched high. He saw dark windows near the top. Viewing windows. He imagined that his bastard father was behind the dark glass taking delight in the unknown torture Peter was about to take part in. On the other side, a wall opened up. Peter felt every urge to run toward it only to be stopped by the suspicious green line. He worried that crossing over would hurt him. Not that it would've mattered anyway. Another figure was shoved through the open wall before sealing itself up.

Peter looked up and was face to face with a small girl, blonde hair frizzled down to her shoulder and freckles along her pale face. Her eyes were the same color as his, which he saw as a frightening rarity. He noticed a pink ankle bracelet bound to one of her frail legs.

This could not be good.

A muffled voice announced over an intercom: "This is combat test #467, subject 'P' and subject 'O'".

Peter heart skipped a beat when he heard that letter. The girl infront of him, went wide-eyed and tried to slowly back away.

It was Olivia.

All the relief and hope that was rising up in Peter was being pushed back by their situation. A combat test? Peter realized…this room was a twisted equivalent to a fighting ring.

The adult bastards were going to make these two children fight each other…fight until one of them was dead.

There was a strange beep. Perhaps to announce the start of the fight, but both children didn't dare move. Peter couldn't hurt Olivia, let alone any child.

Olivia was much more terrified. She had been in this room before, unfortunately. But this was the first time she had laid eyes on someone she was already familiar with. It made the task she would be forced to do even more unbearable.

"Subject 'O'", a familiar voice rang over the intercom. "I believe we've already discussed what will happen if you don't initiate the test. We are expecting YOU to succeed after all. This boy has no real powers. It should be easy for you to finish him."

Despite the truth in Bell's voice, Olivia shook her head. Tears streaming down her eyes. She had already killed in this room before, but the situation now was completely different. She couldn't...she just couldn't.

"Very well."

Olivia fell the floor screaming. The stinging pain from her ankle bracelet was now rushing through her veins, practically burning her.

Peter tried to run over to her, but was pushed back once he tried to cross the green line. An invisible force field ensured that the children stayed on their respective sides.

"Subject 'P'. Perhaps you would like to initiate the start of the test?"

"Damn you," Peter muttered under his breath. Olivia was whimpering as she struggled to get up.

Peter didn't know exactly what his abilities were…and he didn't know if he wanted to know. The doctor said he had no real abilities after all. His hand reached out to the invisible force field. For a second, Peter felt and saw the electric shock. Damn. Electric sparks. That was all Peter could conjure and he doubt that they could rarely do anything.

The room became unusually silent. As he watched Olivia lying there helpless on the other side, Peter had an idea.

He started to walk up and down his side of the green line. The doctors said nothing. It seemed to be working. He got them convinced that he was pacing, anticipating his next move on Olivia. Secretly, Peter was walking the edge of the room searching for something along the walls. He found something that he hoped would do it. It was a small box near the edge of the force field. It had to be a power source.

Carefully planning for the moment, he quickly threw open the small door and shoved his hand in, his palm pressing firmly against the electrical circuits within.

The pain went through him with every blink of light within the room. The doctors were in panic mode. "Shock him." One of the assistants pressed the remote to activate Peter's bracelet about a hundred times before anyone could accept that it wasn't working.

Suddenly, everything went black in the circular room.

Peter had a good sense of direction in the dark. He crossed the green line without harm and grabbed Olivia's hand in a split second. He pulled her off the floor as his other hand searched for the door. Whatever Peter did, it triggered the door to open slightly allowing Peter and Olivia to barely squeeze through.

They were now in a dark hallway. The adults were running around everywhere in a panic, blind and helpless, with no power in the entire facility. But Peter wasn't. He pulled Olivia along with him down the hallway despite knocking things along the way, and the two went through a small fire exit.

Nighttime air was running through the lungs of the two kids. Now that they were out in the open, they would have to run even faster. Moments later, the power in the building would be restored and another moment later, the alarms would sound.

Peter and Olivia were already sprinting away from the facility at this time. It was a blind escape for Olivia though, as she was completely confused and unfamiliar of her surroundings. Peter, having recognized the outside of the compound upon his first arrival here, kept pulling her with him...refusing to let go, as they headed farther away from the buildings.

There was forest ahead of them. They would be free if they just keep running. But they were stopped. The fence. Peter cursed himself. He had forgotten about the big giant chain fence infront of them that walled the entire place.

Behind the two children, there were large flashes of light slowly approaching them.

Peter immediately took to grabbing onto the fence and climbing up. It was easy for him, having climbed more fences to retrieve lost balls than he could count. He got to the top, climbed over and was about to go down when he saw Olivia had not move. She was still standing there infront of the fence. "What are you doing?!" Peter cried. "You gotta climb!"

That's when the boy realized that Olivia had never climbed a fence in her life. Her legs were still sore from the lack of experience from running this far. "Grab the fence with your hand," Peter instructed her. Olivia would've stayed put if not for the unusual sounds she could hear getting closer. She would have to follow Peter's lead. She didn't have a choice now. If she turned back, she would be severely punished. She took one of her small hands to the fence. "Now take your other hand," said Peter. "Grab the fence a little higher. Pull yourself up."

Her arm reached out and grabbed a higher part of the fence. She pulled herself up as Peter told her to but was terrified to find herself hanging. Her foot inserted itself into a cranny in the fence supporting her weight. She got the idea now and slowly she reached her hand out to pull herself up a little higher.

Relieved, Peter climbed down and was now outside of the compound. He turned and saw that Olivia was only halfway getting up on the other side.

He heard vicious growling. Four large Dobermans charging towards the fence. "OLIVIA! CLIMB!"

She couldn't go any faster, nor did she dare turn to see the source of the vicious growling that was creeping up on her.

The first Doberman to arrive at the fence quickly jumped up. Its jaw sank deeply into Olivia's ankle. Her scream of pain echoed throughout the entire outdoors.

Peter took a few steps toward the forest. It would be too late for Olivia no matter what could be done. Olivia's screams would call others to where they were now. He was already on the other side. The sooner he fled into the woods, the greater his chances of being free. But as quickly as he thought it, Peter was consumed by guilt. He always lived the mode of survival of the fit and he was clearly more physically fit than most kids his age. He was feeling shame in leaving her behind like this. He was already leaving more children behind. They were all going through the same pain and turmoil. Peter had almost forgotten that.

He quickly turned back and climbed up the fence. Olivia was surprisingly still holding on despite the Doberman's efforts to pull her down. Her palms were bleeding from her tight grip and were slowly slipping. Peter climbed up until he was level with Olivia. His hands reached through the fence to hold on to her bleeding ones.

A sudden wave of electricity went through to the two of them. Olivia would've fallen had Peter not held onto her.

But something else did fell…The Doberman that grabbed Olivia released it's grip on her and fell to the ground, writhing in pain until it died. The other Dobermans backed away from the electrocuted canine and then fled.

The two children took deep breaths as they gripped each other, but time was running out. Peter helped Olivia, both supporting her and pulling her up despite the painful wounds running through her body.

"Keep going," Peter encouraged her. "You're almost there." He was climbing up the fence with her at every step. When Olivia finally reached the top, Peter pulled her over and she grabbed onto him. Despite the extra weight, Peter wasn't going to make her climb anymore than she possibly could. They finally touched the ground before armed guards finally reached the fence.

Peter pulled Olivia with him as he ran, but she was limping from the dog bite. They managed to duck behind some trees before they heard gunfire. By mere inches were these two children able to avoid the bullets, flying in the darkness. Neither of them turned to see if the guards were going to climb to fence and follow them.

The only thing they could do was to keep running...deeper and deeper into the woods.


	4. Hiding

**So angsty writing weekend occured for me. Seriously! I wrote a one-shot dark fic yesterday but if your new story alert gave you a broken link that is my bad...I took **_**"Martyr"**_** off a few hours after posting cuz...well I was REAL NERVOUS about posting the fic. I was all like "what was I thinking?" Then again, I have that mood with all of my fics! Heh. If anyone wants to help me calm my nerves, send me a PM or whatever and you can take a peak at the fic...see what you think and then I might repost it! ;)**

**And now on to chap 4**

_**----------------------------------------------**_

Peter knew that they weren't going the way he wanted to. They were getting deeper into the countryside with fewer places to hide and farther away from civilization.

Both children found themselves collapsing from exhaustion at the same time. Now in a large forest with nowhere to go, they crawled into an abandoned fox burrow just big enough to fit the both of them. They huddled together, waiting in silence as the sun began to rise.

"We shouldn't have left," cried Olivia. "We should go back."

"No," Peter protest. "Are you crazy? They'll hurt us more."

Panic rose in Olivia. She was unfamiliar with the world outside of the compound, outside of her cell. She wasn't embracing the freedom like Peter was.

"I wanna go back!"

She was about to leave the security of the burrow when Peter grabbed her. She began to scream and kick at him.

"Shut up!" growled Peter. "They'll find us!" He managed to pull her down and placed a hand over her mouth just in time. Peter caught a glimpse of flashing light through the entrance of the burrow and the two kids fell silent. Even Olivia stopped her resisting.

More flashing lights…Automobile sounds…Car door slams…

…Footsteps.

Their voices were incoherent but it was clear that they were searching the area for the two of them.

The first glimpse of the men the children saw were a pair of legs walking over the entryway to the burrow. There were small branches of thicket and tall grass but Peter feared it wasn't enough to shield them from anyone's view. They couldn't go any deeper into the burrow. All they could do was to hold their breaths and for two small children, this would not be easy.

"Peter…" a cheery male voice called out. "Where are you, son?"

Peter knew that the voice was Dr. Walt's. If his mad bastard of a father thought that he was gonna jump out and come to him after everything he put him through, then he had another thing coming.

"Children!" Dr. Walt called out. "If you come out now, I promise the punishment won't be severe. You don't want to be caught later. You're too dangerous to the outside world. Please come out."

Peter could feel Olivia move a slightly and he feared that she was going to leap out and surrender. He grabbed her arm in a silent plea to not expose their hiding place. But she gave an unintended gasp.

"Shh!"

The children froze in place even though they were getting very uncomfortable. Their muscles were sore and little insects were crawling at their legs.

"I thought I heard one of them."

Another pair of feet began trekking its way past the eyes of the two children. The shoes were so close that the dirt and other particles the footstep on would get right into Peter's face, almost causing him to sneeze.

Just above the man's shoes Peter and Olivia could see something more terrifying. They fought every urge in their bodies not to whimper as they saw the barrel of a large rifle, dangling from the man's leg. The barrel just inches away from their faces.

Their hearts seemed to stop at the same moment the man stopped moving.

"Well…they must've gotten further down."

"That's impossible. One of them is injured and they're far from physically fit. They couldn't have gotten out more than a mile."

"Well, it's almost morning. We have the whole day to catch up to them. Let's go."

The man with the dangling gun was moving once again. His feet disappearing from view. Further out, Peter could see more feet walking away.

_BARK! BARK!_

Peter almost fell backwards. Just a few feet away, a German Shepherd was barking like crazy. The canine was no doubt barking and charging towards the fox burrow only to be held back by a leash.

"He's going nuts," said the guard that was holding him.

The other men turned their faces towards the burrow and both Peter and Olivia thought it was all over.

But something scattered its way past the opening that the children could only see as a small blur. The German Shepherd turned its nose away from the burrow, following the moving blur.

"It's just a chipmunk. Let's get going already!"

The men finally disappeared from sight, pulling the dog with them.

Still, they had to remain silent...

Wait until all the footsteps, all the cars, and all the noises deceased...

It was several long minutes until only the chirping of morning birds passed their ears.

The children finally took deep breaths, sneezes, and moans of frustration. Though slightly relieved, neither of the children were going to take the chance of climbing out just yet.

The air outside was feeling good as the morning progressed. A part of Peter wanted to run out of that burrow and roll around in the sweet natures of freedom. He nearly took the extra step but stopped himself. The moment he gets out, Peter would have no place to go. He no longer had a mother to turn to. She was the one who abandoned him in this god-awful mess to begin with. He was tired, sore, and hungry. For all of his genius, Peter knew that there was no way for either one of them to go very far without being caught.

For now, he just wanted to sleep.

He turned to Olivia, who curled herself up in a ball and looked around the burrow scared and confused. "We can't get out yet," whispered Peter. "They'll be looking for us all day."

"But I can't stand being in here," Olivia whined.

"It won't be long," Peter assured her. He hoped his words reign true. "We can sleep on it. They don't think we're here anymore so…we'll be okay."

Olivia yawned, she was getting tired too but she was also feeling so much stress. There wasn't much resting room in the burrow. Peter followed Olivia's example of curling himself up in a ball. One side of himself was brushing up against the dirt wall, the other side against Olivia. It was very uncomfortable for the both of them but before any of them could complain, their eyes were giving way and they both fell fast asleep.

--------

They quietly woke up around sunset, both hurting like hell but it was still considered unsafe to leave the burrow just yet.

If everything worked out just right, then all Peter had to do was followed what he learned in history class…the slaves in the Underground Railroad…they would hide by day and travel by night. So would they. After all, most of the testing and torture that the children went though took place mostly at night and Peter had a feeling that Dr. Walt wouldn't want to stray away from his lab during his "work hours".

It got a bit risky when twilight came. Peter crawled out first. He was blinded by the dark for a few seconds. Then he pulled Olivia out.

They were weak and hungry and had only gotten a little over a mile away from the labs. Deep down, they knew that they weren't going to last very long. It had to take a lot to convince Peter that he had already committed the great crime of escaping the place. He might as well try to keep going.

He didn't want to show it infront of Olivia, but Peter was a bit afraid of the dark, which made the decision to travel by night all the more troublesome. He imagined that being in the dark wasn't a problem for Olivia. She never had the luxuries of sleeping with a nightlight like he did. Now at such a young age, Peter began to realize that there were so many little things he took for granted.

On the other hand, the darkness meant that they were safe. There would be no one coming out to look for them...for now.

Their legs were sore as they walked. They might as well be walking on hot coals. There was tripping just about every few feet. In some cases Peter and Olivia were bumping into each other. There wasn't much moonlight to help the children find their way, so it was going to be a very rough night of traveling.

It became more challenging for Olivia to follow Peter as the dog bite in her ankle made it more difficult to walk. Every time she tried to follow Peter one direction into the woods, he would end up going another.

She nearly shrieked when she felt someone grab her arm. Her eyesight could barely comprehend that it was Peter.

"Over here." He pulled her a few more inches and then down to her knees. She could hear a faint sound, almost like a small shower running. It wasn't until her hand landed straight in it did she realized that Peter had found a small stream of water.

It wasn't much but it would be enough to sustain them for a little while.

Peter got up first, hoping that Olivia would follow his lead. But she wouldn't budge. She knew that he was getting up to leave and she still didn't make an effort to move. She just sat there and said, "I can't keep going anymore. I don't want to."

He kneeled down next to her. "Yes, you can."

"Where are we going?"

"I dunno," he said. "Anywhere we want."

"Then I want to stay here."

"It's not safe here." He grabbed her arm and pulled her up despite her resisting. Peter got her at the very least to stand on her feet. "Besides, we could be getting closer to someplace…any place. Let's try to at least get out of these woods."

He then pulled her away from the creek but she was still showing some resistance by making him drag her. "Didn't you hate that place?"

"Yeah," Olivia said softly. "A lot."

"Then why won't you keep going?"

She wrapped her arms around herself. "Because I don't know where we are," she said. "Or what we're doing. I'm...I'm scared."

"Livvy," said Peter. "I'm scared too. I don't know where we are either...but we'll be okay. Trust me?" He reached out a hand and Olivia was nothing but hesitant about taking it. This time as they continued to move on into the darkness, he slowed down so that Olivia could keep up, despite walking blindly into the unknown.

--------

He didn't realize that they had been walking past dawn. They were supposed to have found a hiding place by now but the cloudy skies had messed everything up. Now he had no idea how early in the morning it was. But then he looked ahead and saw that the trees were getting less and less present. He thought he could see something up ahead… He wasn't sure but his heart was beating fast...

"'Livvy, I think we're almost out. Come on." Adrenaline was running through Peter as he began to move faster. "Slow down!" Olivia cried. She did her best to keep up with Peter pulling her, but it was still very painful.

When Peter stopped, it was almost like looking into a surreal dream…

There were no more trees ahead of them.

Instead there was a valley of dirt with a large strange yellow machine and a trailer to the side. They had stumbled upon a construction site…

…and just past that was an endless sea of suburban homes. It wasn't the city but it was still relieving enough to make Peter want to cry.

"What's that?" asked Olivia.

"It's freedom!" Peter said happily.

"No, I mean that sound."

Peter listened in hearing a faint rumbling. He felt a drop of moisture on his face. Olivia didn't get it at all, but Peter was already pulling her toward the dirt valley before she could ask.

When they reached the bottom, it started to rain and Peter knew that they had to find shelter, knowing the rain was going to get worse. There was nothing around the construction site that would provide adequate shelter. They would have to attempt going into the neighborhoods.

Peter and Olivia struggled as they climbed the muddy hill. Their clothes becoming smeared in brown.

They had another chain link fence to climb, but this one was only four feet tall so it would be a less painful and risky endeavor. On the other side was someone's back yard. Peter could only pray that no one saw them enter their yard as they climbed over.

The rain had become a downpour. He and Olivia were soaked. Whirling around, he barely noticed the yellow playhouse in the corner of the yard. "In there!"

Relief swarmed both of them as they drag themselves into the playhouse and collapsed. They were both too cold and too wet. Peter had gotten the two of them in a mess now. They were deliberately trespassing on someone's property and if they didn't move quickly once the rain let up…someone would catch them.

They waited there for an hour. Olivia was not feeling very good at all. She was starting to feel very sick. They still hadn't have anything to eat in a day and a half. It was amazing that they were both even alive at this point.

With all the rain pouring, they didn't realize that something sped into the playhouse making high-pitched noises. Both Peter and Olivia shrieked…

_YIP! YIP!_

It was a small Yorkshire Terrier…with now-wet long hair pinned with too many ribbons to count. The dog was jumping at the excitement of seeing these two strangers.

"Go away!" Peter said. The rain was starting to die down to drizzles, but the tiny dog was still running through the playhouse happily. It then went about licking Peter's fingers, as well as Olivia's and began to run back and forth between the two of them.

_SLAM!_

Peter froze. They heard a door slam coming right from the back porch. Next came the sound of sloshy footsteps...louder with each step.

They were coming straight into the playhouse.


	5. Astrid

"Gene! Gene, you in here?"

The only way out of the playhouse was now blocked by a small person, covered in yellow, bearing a sweet child's voice. "Time to go back in the house."

The yellow-coated stranger was unmasked. A dark-skinned curly-headed girl nearly stumbled backward at the unexpected invasion of her playhouse by a strange boy and girl. She couldn't move and neither could they.

Peter felt Olivia grab his arm very tightly while the little girl in the yellow coat stood there...not knowing what to do except gawk at their weary, beaten forms...not to mention their very unusually muddy gray sweats. She didn't even notice her little Yorkie running past her legs to escape the playhouse.

"Astrid! What are you doing out there?!"

The little girl was hesitant before answering the woman's call...still staring at the strangers. "I…I'm watching Gene go to the bathroom."

"Well get back inside, baby! I don't want you playing out in this weather!"

Peter was now shaking more than Olivia was as he made a soft plea to Astrid. "Please…don't tell anyone we're here."

"ASTRID!"

The girl quickly fled the playhouse. "I'm coming, mama!"

Despite the little girl and her dog disappearing into the house, Peter and Olivia were still trapped where they were by the heavy rains.

"Do you think she'll tell?" asked Olivia.

"Maybe we can sneak out before it stops raining."

"How do we know when it stops raining?"

Peter sighed. "I dunno. We'll just have to wait for the right time to move."

Olivia yawned "okay". Cold and exhausted, she found herself curling up against Peter slowly letting sleep consume her. Peter was unknowingly falling asleep as well. Dark stormy rains often had that nappy effect on him.

--------

The boy cursed himself when he woke and found that it had stopped raining and that the afternoon sun was out.

"Livvy, wake up. We gotta go." But before the two kids could get up, they heard the back door of the house slam again. Footsteps once again came moving towards the playhouse.

"Oh, you're still here!" greeted Astrid. "Sorry I wasn't a better host but I didn't know I would have guests in my house."

"Your house?" Peter said in a skeptical manner.

"Of course. I welcome everyone who comes into my house." Astrid had a bag that she carried with her into the playhouse and pulled out the teacups she had in it. She also had a package of cookies that she opened up. Peter and Olivia could only sit there against the wall and look at Astrid very awkwardly.

"What's the matter?" she said. "Haven't you ever been to a tea party?"

"Unfortunately, I have." Peter grumbled to himself thinking about all of those tea parties that a couple of the neighborhood girls dragged him to. For Olivia however, this was a completely foreign concept to her. "This isn't even a real tea party."

Astrid sneered at the boy. "My mama won't let me bring real food and drinks into the playhouse. Only snacks. But I can have real tea parties in the house all I want."

Peter looked at the contents Astrid was spreading on the floor between them. Sure the tea wasn't real…but the cookies were! Instantly, the package of cookies were swiped by Peter's hand and he tore it open.

"HEY!" Astrid couldn't believe her eyes as she watched the boy rudely scarf down a handful of cookies. She pointed to Olivia and said "why don't you teach your boyfriend some manners?!"

"What???" Peter and Olivia said in confused unison.

Astrid giggled at them. "Sorry, I thought you were a couple. What are doing in my house together anyway? Were you hiding?"

"That's none of your business," said Peter as he urged Olivia to eat some of the cookies.

"Well you looked really scared to see me and you look dirty. Where do you guys live? Down the street?"

Neither of them could answer. There was just no lie in the world to justify their situation. That was when Astrid looked down and saw the blue ankle bracelet on Peter, the pink one on Olivia. Her mouth dropped wide open. "Are you from…the lab?"

Their bodies instantly betrayed Astrid. Peter and Olivia stopped their eating. "What lab?" Peter asked in a desperate attempt to hide their cover.

"The lab in the forest. My daddy says there's one. He always tells me if I'm not good, I might end up there someday and be one of their…ex-perin-nims…uh…"

"Experiments?"

"Yeah…but I thought daddy was just telling me a scary story."

Peter told her with all seriousness, with every second of his experience at the lab still encased in his mind. "It's not a scary story. Olivia and I are running far away from there."

"Oh…well…you won't get to run very far."

"Why's that?"

Astrid then sniffed Peter. "Cause you're dirty and smelly. Daddy says that people who come from that lab are."

"Hey, I don't smell!"

"Yes you do! Your clothes are all muddy." She noticed Olivia's pants had tears and blood on the cuffs. "Eww. Is that blood? What d'you do?"

"I got bit," said Olivia. "By a big dog."

"Gene is a big dog."

"No he's not," said Peter. "He's one of those tiny dumb yappy dogs."

"Don't call Gene a dumb dog!" cried Astrid. "He's clean and pretty unlike you. Hey, I know what you two need…you need a bath. I can clean you and your girlfriend and no one will know you're from the lab."

"Her name's Olivia." Peter crossed his arms. "And I don't need a bath from a little baby."

"I'm six years old, I'm not a baby! Come on, Olivia. I can get you looking nice and clean again." Astrid grabbed Olivia's hand and pulled her out of the playhouse.

"Wait!" Peter called out. "You're not leaving me in here!"

"Fine then, Stink. Come inside with us. My mama's napping. So we have to be very quiet and don't dirty the floor."

The three of them carefully approached the back door, which Astrid opened as quietly as she could. Peter and Olivia cleaned the mud off their shoes so they wouldn't leave tracks inside. Astrid's mother was sleeping on a couch in the living room as they passed. The three of them tiptoed their way through this strange house and quietly crawled up the stairs. Gene kept running around and annoying them nearly causing Peter to trip. But soon they all managed to sneak into Astrid's bedroom. She pulled out some bath towels and a set of clothes from her dresser drawers. "Okay 'Livia. Let's go get washed up. Stink here has to stay in the room cause he's a boy."

"I'm Peter!"

"SHH! My mama's still sleeping!"

Olivia nervously followed Astrid down the hall to the bathroom. "My mama says I'm a very…indepen-ant girl," said Astrid. "I can take my own baths all by myself." Astrid turned on the water and proved her skills by testing the temperature. She nearly scalded her hands a few times before finally getting the right warmth of water and she never got into the bath until the water reached up to the piece of tape that was placed in the tub so Astrid knew when to turn off the water.

Peter was trapped in the purple-painted room forced to wait everything out. Then the doorbell rang and Gene started barking. Out of curiosity, Peter stepped out of the bedroom and stood near the railing. He could see Mrs. Farnsworth slowly walking towards the front door.

He couldn't believe it when he saw them. Thank god he remained hidden from view but there was no doubt about it. Standing their outside was Dr. Bell and his own father!

"Good afternoon, ma'am," said Dr. Walt in a false cheery gesture. "We're from the Westwood Experimental Facilities located 5 miles from your home. We had two subjects escape from our labs a couple of days ago, and we have reason to believe that they could be in the area."

"Oh my." Mrs. Farnsworth looked very worried.

"Here's a profile of the subjects." Dr. Bell handed her a sheet of paper that had Peter and Olivia's photo profiles. "We must warn you that the little girl is considered extremely dangerous. You'll be able to identify the children no doubt by their clothes and by the ankle bracelets on their legs."

Peter was panicking inside. He sneaked over to the bathroom hoping to warn to girls...out of fear that they would start searching the house.

He opened the door to the bathroom, but realized a second too late that it was the wrong thing to do. Astrid gave a screech even though she was still in her clothes and yelled "OUT!" Peter quickly closed the door and scurried away.

The noise attracted the attention of the adults downstairs. "Oh, that's just my daughter," said Mrs. Farnsworth.

Dr. Bell looked towards the stair suspiciously. "Your daughter knows to not play with unfamiliar children, correct? You know about the stray and abandoned child laws."

"Yes. But that's why I moved my daughter here. I didn't know we were living that close to a child pound that they could start sneaking into a new neighborhood like this."

"Well, best be careful ma'am. If you find even a trace of them, we would appreciate if you call us."

The two scientists then left and Mrs. Farnsworth was heading up the stairs. Peter quickly rushed into a nearby closet to hide. Mrs. Farnsworth then knocked on the bathroom door hearing the water running. "Astrid, baby, you alright? What was that screaming?"

On the other side of the bathroom door. Astrid and Olivia went silent. "Oh uh…nothing mama, I just saw a spider."

"You need me to come in there, sweetie?"

"NO MAMA! Lemme do it myself!"

"Okay, okay." Mrs. Farnsworth headed back down the stairs in defeat.

After about half an hour, Astrid and Olivia came out of the bathroom. Olivia looked and even felt much better after Astrid cleaned her up and even placed fresh bandages on her wounds.

"You look good in my clothes," said Astrid as she was brushing Olivia's hair. "And I love your hair. It's long and pretty."

Peter was sitting at the edge of Astrid's bed, getting annoyed at how much time Astrid was wasting trying to put as many curls and ribbons into Olivia's long strands. "We don't have time for this!"

"Hey I'm making you two look nice."

"Oh no! You're not gonna make me wear any of YOUR clothes."

"No! You're crazy! I'll get you some boy clothes from Charlie. He lives down the street."

"But that'll take forever," said Peter. "And we can't stay in your room."

"I know," said Astrid. "You can sleep in the attic. My mama and daddy never go up there."

Astrid led Peter and Olivia upstairs and she brought some blankets and pillows along. The attic was a bit dusty but it was the only comfortable place that the kids could stay in without the adults knowing that they were in the house.

Soon after, however, Astrid had to go back downstairs to have dinner with her family. Being the clever child that she was she managed to sneak back up some food from the dinner table, mostly vegetables that she refused to eat but she also made PBJ sandwiches and brought bottles of water to them as well. It was the most that Peter and Olivia had to eat in a very long time.

"Charlie's coming over in the morning with clothes," said Astrid. "I didn't say why I needed them."

"Yeah, thanks," Peter said with his mouth stuffed with food. "Now all we need is something to get these bracelets off of us."

"Ooh," said Astrid. "Daddy has something in his tool chest. I'll look for it tomorrow, but I haveta go to bed now. Goodnight, Stink. Goodnight, Livvy." Olivia tried to not let it show but she had been giggling at Peter's new nickname. Of course she would never be that cruel as to call him that, but still she thought his constant bantering with the little girl was cute.

"Peter?"

"Yeah?"

"I wish we could stay here."

"Me too."

They spent the remainder of the night quietly eating the food that they would unlikely have again for a very long time.

Now that they were free and remotely safe at the moment, Peter had so many questions he wanted to ask Olivia…about her times in the lab. The questions burned in his head more now that she was wearing shorter sleeve clothing. The capri pants she wore expose the massive sea of purple and brown that ran from her ankles up to her knees. When he accidentally walked in on the girls earlier that afternoon, he could see a massive ugly rainbow of red on her back.

Perhaps, he thought, it was better not to know. Perhaps it all stated pretty much how lucky Peter was to escape from his father as soon as he did.

_**----------------------------------------------**_

_**Aw was that rollin' in cute or what? Guess I might've exaggerated how dark things would get in this tale but I didn't know how exactly this would turn out when I write. There are some darker parts in this story to come later. Would it interest you to know how insanely tempted I am to write a really dark extensive fic to my oneshot "Martyr"? Somebody please save me from my messed-up, plot-bunny-raped muse!!!!**_

08-06-09


	6. Sick Place

"Ow! Careful," cried Peter. "You're pinching my legs."

Astrid was only doing the best she could with her little hands holding heavy garden pliers. It seemed that nothing was strong enough to remove the colored bracelets from Peter and Olivia's ankles. "You know, you whine a lot for someone who smells," she said sticking out her tongue.

"Forget it," said Peter. "We should just find a way to get out of here."

"And go where?"

Peter shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe we should just go to Canada. They don't do crazy things up there like fry your brains or make you kill people…"

Olivia became incredibly tensed at his last comment and Peter realized his mistake too late.

"Make you kill people?" asked Astrid who was looking real scared. "You're not murderers are you?"

Quickly Peter said "No. No. We're not murderers…I just hear things." He looked over to Olivia who was having a hard time keeping her cover. The sweat and guilt was slowly showing on her face.

Astrid gave a happy sigh or relief. "Oh…that's good."

Her mom was calling from downstairs. "Astrid! Breakfast!"

"Ooo. I gotta go." Once Astrid had happily left the attic, Peter turned to Olivia, only to find her back to him in the far corner of the small room crying.

"Livvy, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say anything about killing infront of her. It just slipped out."

"She was scared," Olivia sniffed. "If her mommy knew we were in here, she would call the police."

"Relax," said Peter. "We can sneak out tonight when everyone's asleep." Olivia remained silent and to herself. "Don't worry, Livvy. You're not a murderer. You didn't mean to kill that boy. It was an accident, right?"

"They made me do it!" Olivia cried. "I told you!"

He put her hand to her mouth. "Stop. They're gonna hear us. Let's talk about something else."

"Like what?"

"Uh…how about family? Did your mom dumped you at that place like mine did?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"What about your dad?"

Olivia went silent.

"Okay, fine. You don't have to answer. Let's say both of our families suck, okay?"

Peter looked out the attic window having to concern himself with a new problem. How would they get out of this enormous suburbia and get to the city without being seen? They couldn't hitchhike or take a train even if he had the money for the both of them.

He remembered his mom telling him that he couldn't go anywhere by himself unless he carried around an I.D. card proving that he had parents and a home. He lost that card after his mother dumped him at the lab and now he knew why it was so important for people to know he wasn't an orphan.

Looking across the street, Peter found the solution he had been looking for, being pulled up to the curb.

With Astrid's dad at work and her mom working outside, the kids went downstairs into Astrid's room for a part of the day. Peter changed into the clothes that Astrid's neighbor, Charlie, brought over and got himself cleaned up.

Later, Peter and Olivia returned to the attic to prepare. They were going to leave in the middle of the night, despite how comfortable they had gotten being here.

It was around 4 am when Astrid snuck out of her bed and went up to the attic to get Peter and Olivia. "Let's go."

They snuck past Astrid's sleeping parents and went downstairs only to find Gene running up towards the kids happily. The three of them panicked as the dog began to growl. Astrid tried to calm him down. "Gene, quiet." She finally got him to go away by going to the kitchen and giving him a piece of beef jerky.

Silence and darkness the three kids as they stepped out of the house and went across the street. There standing by the trashcans was a large armoire. It would be taken by the garbagemen to the junkyard in the city. And Peter and Olivia were just small enough for the both of them to be able to fit in.

"Okay," said Astrid as she watched the two kids get in, giving them a worn out pink backpack filled with various items. "I packed you some food and some other stuff you can have."

"Aw, Astrid." Olivia took the pink backpack. "You didn't have to do that."

"Yes, I did," she said. "I put some cleaning stuff in there too. So you can fix up Stink here so he doesn't smell so much."

Peter tried to restrain his annoyance. As for Olivia, she gave Astrid a big hug. "Thank you," she said. "I'll miss you."

"Yeah," said Peter rolling his eyes. "Same."

"Bye-bye. Have a happy life." Astrid closed the doors to the armoire leaving Peter and Olivia inside.

"Astrid?"

She turned and saw her neighbor stopping by on his bike. "Oh…hi Charlie!"

"What are you doing outside at 4 in the morning?"

"Oh…uh…I'm just…I was sleepwalking?"

"Yeah?" the 10-year-old looked at the girl very suspiciously. "Who were you talking to?"

"No one. I told you I was sleep talking…or walking or sleepwalking. What are you doing?"

"You know I get up early to do the paper route."

"Well," said Astrid. "Now I'm awake, I'm going back to bed. Goodbye."

Charlie watched Astrid walk back into her house. Something strange had been up with her in his mind since she asked him for some of his old clothes. He heard a strange noise and a thump coming from behind him. The armoire. He thought about opening it, but decided against it. He had to get on his bike and get going.

Too many strange things going on around here, he thought.

Peter watched the boy leave on his bike through a crack in the armoire and said "that boy was being awful nosy. I'm glad we're getting out of here."

Neither of them enjoyed having to stand but they had no choice. For an hour or two they would wait inside the armoire until they heard the loud rumbling noise of a truck. Both children held on to the hangers inside as the garbagemen picked the armoire up and carried it into the truck, thankfully with its back down. They had to maintain their balance inside so as to not accidentally fly out the door and expose themselves.

--------

The trip was long, quiet, and painful and they could barely breathe. After what seemed like an eternity, the armoire was lifted out of the truck. Once more, they waited…

But Peter couldn't take the crampness anymore and finally kicked the doors open. He and Olivia stepped out and breathed the air even though it smelled a bit from everything around them.

"Where are we?" asked Olivia.

"This is a junkyard. I'm sure we're real close to the city. We better get going before someone spots us."

They began walking and were surprised to find that the dump they were in wasn't very big. In face, the hills of junk were divided into small, scattered piles only an acre wide. There were no fences or people around which made the two kids worry even more.

In front of them was a large worn down building, which was no doubt abandoned. They walked around it, expecting to find a little more…

But when they turned the corner they were shocked. Rows of buildings lined down the abandoned street before them. Many of them crumbled. Others no more than piles of collapsed bricks. The whole area was deserted. The pavements were spewing green weed through every nook and cranny.

"Peter? This looks really scary. Where are all the people?"

"I don't know." Peter was probably more scared than Olivia was. "But if there's no people around. Maybe we'll be fine."

They decided to take their chances and walk through the quiet streets. It was less scary for them to do so than to hide inside the dark abandoned buildings. Their steps were slow but they remained alert, walking like prey out in the open. Peter didn't know what he was doing or where he was going but Olivia stayed very close to him with every step.

They only had to hide once. They hid behind an old wall from view as they watched another truck come by carelessly abandoning its load of junk and garbage and driving off. This whole idea was starting to become a mistake. Peter didn't know why this abandoned city became a dumping ground, but he started to have a bad feeling in his gut, a dreadful idea.

But that bad feeling was getting worse as he and Olivia kept moving. They were finally stopped by something they didn't expect. A giant wall. It was makeshift build with various boards of wood, metal, old billboards and brick. The wall stretched far away on both ends. Worse of all, it wasn't structured for climbing over.

He looked up and saw strange green clouds forming over the sky…right over the entire area.

Now Peter understood where they really were, but it was too late. His stomach started to hurt. He started to feel dizzy. Olivia looked at him worryingly. "Peter…what's wrong?"

He dropped to his knees and vomited. Olivia was terrified to see Peter looking pale. "We're in a 'sick place', Liv. They put something called a quarantine around this place. They made everyone leave."

"Why?"

"Cuz people can get sick. People can die in a 'sick place'. My mom warned me about places like this."

"Peter, no. You can't be dying!"

"You should go. Get away from here before you get sick too."

"No," Olivia shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, I don't wanna leave you!"

Peter vomitted a bit more. "Just do it. Get away from the green cloud or it'll make you sick."

Olivia got out the pick backpack and took from it a bottle of water. "Please," she said offering the bottle to Peter. He took the water and tried to gulp it down but he kept spitting it out.

With Olivia crying and Peter turning for the worst, neither of them could focus on the strong buildup of the green clouds overheard or the strange noises that echoes throughout the quiet streets...

Until a van appeared out of nowhere.

It was too late for the children to move. The van practically stopped infront of them.

Peter tried to push Olivia away from him, urge her to run but no force on earth was going to make her do it. She was scared at the van's arrival but even more scared of leaving Peter not knowing where they were or where she would even go.

So, instead she wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

The stranger stepped out of the van and hovered over the cowering children. He didn't look like a doctor or a scientist in the least. In fact he was wearing a nice suit and looked down on the children gleefully.

"You must be little Olivia Dunham."

Olivia looked up and looked into the creepy smile of the strange man with receding hair. She has never seen his face in all the years in the lab. "Who…who are you?"

"Get back!" Peter threw the bottle of water at the man.

The man's brushed the act off not caring for getting wet. "And you must be Bishop's boy. I heard you two escaped from the lab. We had a feeling we would find you two wandering about in places where children shouldn't be."

Peter gathered all the strength within him that would allow him to get up. He had to run. He and Olivia had to run…now.

But another man appeared infront of them and pointed a strange gun at the two kids. Peter couldn't help but stand there and cry along with Olivia. These men knew who they were. They were going to take them back to the lab.

"Mitchell," the suited man snarled. "Don't be foolish. They're only children."

Mitchell lowered his weapon. "You know what the girl's capable of. I figure we shouldn't take any chances."

"Then use a tranquilizer gun. We're not trying to kill them."

Despite feeling ill and dizzy, Peter wasn't going to let these men take them easily. He pulled and pushed Olivia along trying to get away from the scene. As Mitchell went into the van to switch guns, the man in the suit didn't seem to mind the young ones trying to leave. He didn't even make an attempt to go after them.

By then, Mitchell had already fired one needle that struck Olivia from behind. The other hitting Peter and they both fell.

"I only put a little bit in each," said Mitchell. "You happy, Jones?"

Mr. Jones pulled out a needle and injected his arm. It was medicine that allowed him to be inside the quarantine area without getting sick. "Quite. Now I'd be happier if you get them into the van so we can best be on our way."


	7. Basement

Peter was slowly regaining consciousness when he was pulled out of the van. Despite how dizzy and nauseous he felt, he still had the nerve to squirm and struggle under Mitchell's grasp until he was dropped on what looked like a bed.

A sharp needle was driven into his skin without warning. He could've sworn that his own screams where being echoed throughout his surroundings. There was another scream he heard…almost sounded like Olivia's.

She awoke to the pain running through her system bringing tears to her eyes. The man, Mr. Jones, had completed the injection and was storing the contents aside. Olivia found herself tied to a rickety chair in what looked like a quaint looking kitchen though the walls were slowly peeling away and the wooden cabinets were falling apart.

Mr. Jones grabbed another old chair and sat formally across from her. "How are you feeling, Olivia?"

She kept her head down, unable to look at him.

"You don't feel sick, do you? When you were in the quarantined area, do you know why your friend got very sick and you did not?"

Olivia shook her head.

"It's because you're a very special little girl, Olivia. Those years you spent with those doctors…they gave you a drug. You can enter sick places without getting sick and you can do other things too, can you?"

Olivia bit her lip. This man couldn't possibly know what she was…unwillingly capable of.

"They say you are dangerous. That you hurt other people…kill them even."

A very soft "no" came quivering from her lips. She struggled to shake away the look of judgment this man seemed to be placing on her, almost as if he brought her here to sentence her for her deeds.

"What if I could help you control your abilities?"

Olivia felt this was impossible. If four years under Dr. Bell and Dr. Walt didn't do anything for her, what would this scary stranger be able to do any different?

"Those doctors, they hurt you…punish you…when you don't do right. I assure you that I will not resort to such savage behavior. I don't expect you to be perfect right away, but I do expect you to work hard and practice often. Your friend Peter seems very dear to you, so I'll make a deal with you. I will let Peter remain here unharmed but you'll need to keep up with your training. More importantly…you must do everything I tell you to without question. Does that sound reasonable to you?"

She looked up when she realized that Peter was here…somewhere here. Was he okay? Was he still sick? She couldn't trust the man to answer her. But she was more worried about what they would do to him if she didn't respond. Olivia nodded her head in agreement. She didn't know but could only hope she was doing right. She's rarely ever done right in the eyes of the adults.

"Very good." Mr. Jones got up and released the restraints on her chair. She allowed him to help her up without question. "Now then little one, I'll let you retire for the day. Mitchell will show you to your new living quarters. In the morning, you will hear a buzzing noise. That should give you ample time to wake and be dressed before we began your exercises."

At that moment, another man came into the kitchen grasping a tight hold on a boy's arm.

"Peter!"

Mitchell was half dragging Peter towards Olivia's direction but did not let go. He swung open the door in the far corner of the kitchen and then grabbed Olivia with his other arm. The two children were being pulled against their will, down a flight of old stairs descending deeper and deeper into the dark.

"Stop that!" Mitchell threatened when he felt Peter trying to struggle. They reached the bottom of the steps and turned towards the direction of the larger room in the dark dreary basement. He let go of the children, shoving them both before pulling closed a gated wall that blocked the way up the stairs.

Peter, being the more rebellious one, ran up the gate and shook it relentlessly. "HEY!" he cried out several times.

He was stopped when Olivia ran up to him and wrapped her arms around him. The sudden gesture made Peter almost jump out of his skin and he pushed her away, getting her to let go.

He immediately regretted it. Olivia fell to the floor, landing on the rough ragged carpeting and she started to cry. Not knowing what else to do, Peter sat on the floor close to her. "Livvy?"

She looked at him in surprise. "You're…you're not sick anymore?"

"Nope," said Peter feeling a bit more confident. "I actually feel a whole lot better. I think it was that stupid needle they put in me."

They looked at their surroundings. The basement was everything like one a typical child would fear to tread. The walls were concrete and the pipes from above were loud and rusty. There was a tiny bathroom to the side that look nasty and there were spider webs everywhere. A row of twin beds lined up against the large wall, which made Peter suspect that they were expecting to pick up more kids like them. Their captors knew who they were and that they were from the lab. Aside from the beds, there were two dressers to one side, one that simply stated 'boys' and that other stated 'girls' filled with various tattered children's clothes.

It didn't look any better than the lab in Peter's opinion. The only slight good was when Mitchell came by and brought them table scraps for substance.

Night came and they left no lights on for the kids. Peter jumped on top of the bed against the wall trying to reach up to the only tiny window in the entire basement.

"Stop that," said Olivia. "They'll hear us."

"I don't care," said Peter as he continued to jump. With each leap he was getting higher until he could barely see through the window. It was barred from both inside and out.

Finally there were loud thumps coming from above. "Get to bed, both of you!" the voice called back.

Olivia didn't argue. She quickly got into one of the twin beds fearing that they would come down to the basement to punish them for the noise. Peter only pouted as he finally gave up jumping on the bed and went to sleep.

--------

The morning light and the buzz was what greeted them when they woke. Olivia quickly woke and got ready while Peter was still sleeping in bed. He didn't bother to get up until Mitchell finally came down.

"Lazy sh*t!" Mitchell yanked Peter out of bed and dragged him and Olivia out of the basement for the day. They were brought up to the kitchen.

Jones was already waiting at the kitchen table for them. "Good Morning, Olivia. You ready to begin your training today?"

All Olivia could do was look at Peter as Mitchell dragged him out of the kitchen and out the backdoor. "Do not worry about Peter," Jones said. "We're just giving him something to keep himself occupied here."

Mitchell dragged Peter outside where he saw hills and a desolate countryside. The kids were no longer anywhere near the city and chances were, they were farther and farther away from reaching any sort of freedom. The only other building around was a large steel barn. Peter was brought inside.

"You'll be spending your day cleaning this place up," said Mitchell. "I'll be watching you so don't even try to slack off."

Peter look around the barn. The entire place had scrapped metal of various forms scattered and piled everywhere. This place would take months to clean solo.

"Jones wants all the metal here sorted out," said Mitchell. "We're trying to get a special kind of machine built so don't take forever doing this."

The work was going to be hell. Most of the metal that Peter tried to pick up was so heavy that he had to drag it around causing his knuckles to bruise and bleed. Mitchell was yelling at him just about every hour as he leaned back against a wall watching Peter do all the work. Sometimes he would leave the barn for one reason or another, but he would always come back just in case Peter tried to make an escape.

And he was VERY tempted to. Now that he felt better, Peter could dash out into the countryside before Mitchell even had a chance to stop him.

The only thing that prevented all of this was Olivia. Peter couldn't leave her here. These guys could be worse than Dr. Bell, worse than Peter's own father for all he knew. It didn't matter whether or not they had been struck or electrocuted by them yet. Keeping him and Olivia separated by day, locking them up in a dark and creepy basement by night, was enough reason for Peter to not trust these men.

Peter was never alerted to when his duties were done. Mitchell simply grabbed him and brought him back into the house and down into that awful basement. Olivia was already waiting for him there. She hugged him again, but this time Peter felt no need to push her away. After everything they where going through, getting "cooties" no longer seemed like a terrible thing.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine," Peter said despite the fact that his knuckles were scabbing from all the painful work he did. "How 'bout you? Did they hurt you?"

She shook head. "I'm okay."

For days to come, nothing would change. Peter and Olivia had to adjust themselves to a very demanding schedule during the day. Out of spite, Peter would only worked as much as he needed to. But everyday he was scrapping his knees, or getting bruises from all the difficulty heavy-duty work that was too much for his frail 9-year-old body to endure.

As each day progressed, Peter would count the hours, look at the direction of the sunlight, in anticipation for when the day would be over. Gradually, his fears of nighttime or that God-awful basement would cease. It was only then, when his entire world was more dark and scary, that he got to be with Olivia…his only source of comfort.

And her day was less toiling but no less stressful. She hardly trusted this Mr. Jones person no matter how kind and gentle he tried to be towards her. He taught her that her abilities could be controlled by her own will, something she found hard to believe given the things she had done. Mr. Jones made her practice with simple things like moving objects or turning devices on and off but she wasn't making any progress no matter how hard she tried. There was too much cluttering and clouding of her mind to focus. It was always the case…especially when she committed those "accidents".

Peter would spend a good part of the nights in that basement looking for another way out. The fact that he and Olivia were separated from morning until sunset made it impossible for escape to occur during the day. Often Peter would fiddle with the gated wall that blocked the basement stairway. On the other side of those stairs was a small room that had an awful stench he could smell. He stopped messing with the gate after he started hearing an unusual scatter.

Rats!

He had to step back before the rats thought of sneaking through the gated wall and invade the big room. Luckily there seemed to be enough rat poison and traps on the other side to prevent this.

Peter and Olivia felt disgusted. They were now too scared to walk around on the floor, out of fear that a rat would come charging after them.

The house they were prisoners in had to be really old. Every night they could hear every footstep from the kitchen above. The creaking was loud and annoying that Peter could barely sleep. A small streak of light would come seeping into the basement through many of the cracks that were past the end of Peter's bed.

One night, the children could hear stomping and mumbling coming from the first floor. It was getting more intense by the second. Judging by the different pitches of noises, Peter could determine that there were three men in the kitchen this time, not just two. They all sounded to be in a heated argument.

"Peter?"

He looked over surprised to see Olivia was out of her own bed and peering over his own. She was shaking in the blandish gray nightgown she wore. The noise upstairs wasn't getting any calmer for the both of them. So without hesitating, Peter scooted himself closer to the wall allowing Olivia to crawl in next to him.

They cover the blanket over themselves hoping to hide away from all of the scary noises coming from above them.

_BANG!_

The noise was so loud and so sudden, that the two kids froze. They turned icy cold from fear. The movement and voices upstairs went on. Peter swore that one of them was saying something about him and Olivia being asleep. Almost on instinct, the children huddled closer together.

There was a dripping noise that was starting to irritate them both. Peter cautiously squirmed his way out of the blanket. He peeked back in one more time to tell Olivia "be right back". He was out of the bed before Olivia could stop him.

Peter crept closer and closer to the source of the dripping. He could hear something hitting the ceiling pipes. Even though it was dark, he could see that the drops of moisture leaking through the cracks from above were dark-colored…too dark to be water.

He quietly crawled back into bed.

"What is it?" Olivia asked him. Peter wondered if she already knew. He gave a sigh and said "just a pipe leaking water".

They got back under the blanket again trying to imagine themselves someplace far away from where they were but it seemed hopeless. Having a sense of imagination and escapism was slowly dieing on Peter. For Olivia it was already gone.

Peter could sense her relaxing as he wrapped one arm protectively around her. It made him feel better about lying to her about the dripping. For the first time in his life, Peter actually feared the next sunrise. He had an awful feeling, as he hugged Olivia tighter, that tomorrow was going to be a far worse day than any they've experienced here so far.


	8. Release

The noises from above were constant. Neither child got any sleep as they spent every waking second underneath the blanket, all ears and senses opened to any distinct change. But it was hard to tell. Sometimes the movements upstairs would be slow or fast. Other times they would be loud or soft. It felt much longer than a few hours when finally, Peter and Olivia heard the door to the basement open.

They lied still underneath the blanket, trying to relax themselves so as to not show that they were awake.

Olivia was starting to realize that crawling into Peter's bed was not a very good idea, especially if the men were going to check in on them. Peter felt her move and his mind was screaming 'no!' There was no way she could make it back to her bed in time before they caught her. It was too late for him to stop her, as footsteps came stomping to the basement floor.

No child was able focus on their goal when exposed to the light. And Olivia was no different as she was stopped halfway in her tracks by the spotlight that nearly blinded her.

"What are you doing out of bed?" His voice sounded very serious and unpleasant.

Peter laid low under his blanket feeling regret and fear. Although he was too scared too peak out, he could still hear Olivia's shaking breath.

"Nothing…I…I…"

"The bathroom is on the other side of your bed," said Mr. Jones as he slowly opened the gated wall. "And yet here you stand on the other, near the window." He walked straight into the heart of room until he was inches away, looking down on the frightened girl. "You're not trying to escape are you? Not after everything I've given you."

She couldn't see his eyes, not that she wanted to anyway. "No…I…"

A gasp of air came out of her instead of a scream. Perhaps it was the nighttime that did it or the fact that she didn't want to upset Mr. Jones more than he already was. He had gripped Olivia's arm in a very painful form, allowing two of his index fingers to dig into the skin of her forearm while the other remaining fingers were applying pressure to the bones, almost like he was trying to squeeze them together. The nails were sharp against her skin, which only brought more pain and even bleeding.

"Of course you wouldn't," Jones growled. "Because you've agreed to do everything I tell you and escaping would be cheating your way out of our agreement! I'm afraid we'll need to have a serious discussion about this in the morning. Now, you'll go straight back to bed, won't you?"

The moment he let go, she followed his orders. There was no time for tears or to numb over the pain. Olivia just turned and quickly went to her own bed, lied under the covers and shut her eyes tight.

Mr. Jones flashed his light over to Peter. He kept the light on the lump under the blanket for quite some time until he concluded that he was asleep. He turned away not knowing that Peter was wide-awake and attentive to everything going on around him.

Soon more noises came to pass as Mr. Jones closed the gated wall and went back upstairs. He returned minutes later, but this time he was back down with Mitchell.

"This bastard's heavy," Mitchell mumbled. Peter could only assume that they were carrying something into the basement.

"Quiet," Jones growled. "Just toss the body in there."

There were a few more soft thumps…a louder thump and then the task was finally completed as Peter listened to footsteps ascending out of the basement. Long after the door closed and silence fell, there was still no movement from the children. Neither would dare make a move until hours later when daylight would come and the wake up noise shook the room.

Peter crawled out of bed grouchy from getting very little sleep. He looked over and was surprised to find Olivia had not gotten up. This was not normal as she would often spring up right away to get ready for whatever work they were being made to do. Peter slowly approached the bed. "Livvy?"

She was curled up with the blanket all the way up to her neck, her back to him. On the other side, she was staring at the scratch wounds she had been given hours earlier. She whimpered at the wounds that had been searing her with pain all night. The scratches had healed over but what was left behind looked very red and nasty.

"Come on, you gotta get up," he calmly told her. Slowly she tried to push herself out of bed but the fear and desire to stay in bed was too much for her. It was Peter who pulled her up finally. She let him pull her all the way to that retched bathroom.

A screeching noise erupted as it usually did when Peter turned on the rusty sink faucet. The water was hard and irritable, horrible given that the two of them had to use this water for hygiene purposes, but it was the best they had. Peter wetted an old rag under the faucet, rubbing it with the moldy aging bar of soap that was there in the process.

"AH!" Olivia couldn't believe how much a wet soapy rag could sting her until it came in contact with her scratches. She was about to hit Peter for doing this without her consent…but she came to her senses soon enough.

After all, he was only trying to help her.

After cleaning off as much of the dried blood from Olivia's arm as possible, the two children quickly changed into day clothes, preparing for what would be the worst of days. Peter looked out past the gated wall and could see a small door on the other side of the stairs was left open. The door let to either a small room or closet. Seeing a few rats gathering, going through the doorway Peter knew that's where "it" was. He didn't want to believe what "it" most likely was but in a place like this, anything terrible was humanely possible.

He looked up remembering the dripping that was hitting the ceiling pipes hours ago. He instantly spotted a very blood red spot on both the pipe and on the creaky ceiling. Rats continued to travel in and out of the room where a strange stench began to simmer. It would pointless to tell himself another lie about this place. He was hoping to ensure himself that this was just one of those cheap haunted houses one would frequently visit around Halloween. The thing the rats gathered around was just a rag doll stuffed with rat food and the liquid dripping above him, red paint.

Things seemed to be getting worse and worse by the minute here. No lie would allow Peter to escape everything he saw or knew now.

The footsteps upstairs were getting louder. Peter just stood there infront of the gated wall waiting. Seconds later, he felt Olivia grabbing his hand. Waiting for what was going to happen today frightened them more than any real corpse.

"You don't have to," Peter said, breaking the silence. "You don't have to do everything they tell you to."

Olivia realized that he was referring to the conversation Jones had with her only hours ago. "But he…"

"That's parent stuff. He's not my dad or your dad. He can't boss you around up there. Don't let him treat you like my dad treated you."

Nothing more could be thought or said as Jones and Mitchell finally came down to retrieve them. Olivia was too scared that Jones was going to punish her for catching her out of bed.

As Jones was pulling her up the stairs, Olivia noticed a lot of red stains on the steps leading up. Peter saw them too as Mitchell grabbed him. The corpse they brought down to share the basement with the kids had left an awful mess on its way.

To Peter's surprise, Mitchell pushed a bucket filled with soap, water, and a sponge in front of him. "You'll be staying in today, cleaning up this mess." Peter looked at the bucket in his hands and then at the bloodstains on the stairs. He was left behind as Mitchell was the last one leaving the basement. Jones and Olivia were long gone from here.

Peter dropped the bucket and ran up the stairs. Mitchell had closed the door in on him and locked it tight.

"HEY!" Peter banged on the door. "Lemme outta here!!!"

In a room upstairs, Olivia sat in a chair squirming. She feared that they would make her do a test today when she was far from ready. She hadn't improved once since she got here. There was still no control over what it was she could do.

Finally, Mr. Jones entered and her fears intensified. "Your doctor pals at the Westwood Facility have been skulking about. One of them seemed very insistent that we were holding you here. Others will be coming, you know. Do you want them to know that you're here?"

Olivia didn't know how to answer that.

"Then you understand that we will have to relocate and quickly. This time, you will find it right to listen to me. Bad things WILL happen to you if you don't."

His tone was so demanding that Olivia would not stop shaking. Without even realizing it she was muttering under her breath "Peter?"

"'Livia." Mr. Jones became more serious and cold. "This is urgent. We must only take what we need…and WHO we need."

Olivia looked up at him wide-eyed.

"Peter has nothing that is of use to us. Only you do."

Mitchell stepped into the room at that moment, leaning in to the doorway anticipating for Jones next words. Jones turned his head slightly toward the door. His command was deep and to the point.

"Finish him."

She knew those words, what they meant. But Olivia didn't know what to do. She felt trapped in her seat even though she wasn't restrained. She was too scared to make a move as much as she wanted to. Realizing that Mitchell had left the room, Olivia feared it was too late to take that chance.

Peter barely did any scrubbing of the stairs as he spent most of his time against the basement entrance door listening in. He would probably get beaten for it. But after all the electric shocks he received from his father, he couldn't have cared less.

He could hear Mitchell charging back to unlock the door now. Something in his gut urged Peter to back away instead of trying to make a clean break for it.

"No!!!" Olivia gripped her seat very tightly. Her breath was shaking as she tried to form the right words to make her plea. But her mind was so congested with fear and panic and confusion. She closed her eyes. "DON'T KILL HIM!!!"

Little did she know that Peter could hear her screaming those three words the moment Mitchell opened the door. He barely managed to take a few steps back into the basement making Mitchell unable to grab him. At the top of the steps, Mitchell pulled out a gun and aimed it at the boy's head.

Before he could pull the trigger, the loud scream of a man echoed throughout the house. Mitchell looked back in confusion and lowered his gun. He left the stairs and went into the room where he heard it.

Jones was stumbling blindly with his head slowly splitting open and blood was spewing out. Mitchell stood there looking at Jones too horrified to notice Olivia was now cowering in the corner of the room…trying to get her head to stop doing what she knew it was doing again.

As soon as Olivia saw him in the room, Mitchell began to feel a sharp pain in his own forehead.

Peter had been waiting at the basement doorway in the kitchen, seeking his chance to get away. He heard screams coming from a room down the hall but it wasn't his and it wasn't Olivia's. He went down the hall…his heart beating faster than it ever did in his life.

He could see all of them now. A small explosion seemed to burst from the older man's head as Peter watched him fall. Mitchell's head was now splitting open. Through the pain however, he saw Peter standing at the door. In a fit of rage, he stumbled in his direction. He wouldn't get any far though as the pain held Mitchell back until a burst came from his head, much like Jones's.

A bit of the blood splattered on Peter as he stood there looking horrifyingly at the two dead, blood leaking out of an opening in their skulls like a burst pipe.

Olivia had remained in the corner the entire time but now her face had turn ghastly white as she saw Peter carefully walking around the bodies and the pools of blood over to her.

"No! Get away!" she cried out.

Peter shoved away a pair of curtains blocking the only window in the room. He forced it open until he could finally breath in good air from the outside and then pushed the window screen out.

"Come on," he said approaching Olivia despite her warning. "Let's get outta here."

"No! Please! Don't come near me!"

Peter ignored her again. He pulled her out of her cowering corner and over to the window. Force was the only thing that would get Olivia, to move despite her cries of protest. He pushed her out until she fell onto the grass.

Being bigger, Peter was struggling to get out through the small window and was stuck about halfway. He called out to Olivia as she stood and watched him. "A 'lil help?"

She didn't move. In fact, Peter was shocked to find her getting up and backing farther and farther away from the house.

"I can't…" she cried. "I'll only kill you."

The moment she turned from him, Peter wriggled himself back into the house. Olivia was already sprinting away. Peter ran out of the room (not caring for the blood that stained his shoes) and out the front door.

"LIVVY!" He ran out and all around the house. No sign of another being as far as he ran, as far as he looked. "Come back!!!"

Only the wind answered him and Peter realized for the first time how alone he was. He was in the middle of an unknown countryside with hills and mountains in the distance that surrounded him. No absolute idea of where he was.

Perhaps he was already in the freedom of safety of Canada. Perhaps he was free…lost, but free. No more kidnappers or torturers around.

But freedom for this one boy never felt so horrible…or so lonesome.


	9. Paradise

A/N: This is the final chapter to take place in Peter's childhood timeline. Guess where the next chapter will take place. ;)

_**-------------------------------**_

Completely drained of energy, Peter found himself wandering through the wilderness for two whole days. He became hungry and exhausted. His senses seemed clouded and he swayed as he walked.

Not that any of it mattered. He was alone and had no idea where he was or what he could possibly do now. No matter how much he called out for Olivia, he had to accept it. She was long gone.

He was unaware of the changes to his environment. The trees were skinny and void of their green. The grass was tall but yellow and dead. Gray skies seemed to complement the whole area.

Thinking that he had arrived in a woodland wasteland, Peter gave up and collapsed against a dying tree. His body seemed to rest against the thing for hours, not caring for the bumpy things on the ground that were bothering him.

His drowsy eyes noticed one round unusual thing burrowed in the dead grass. Weakly, Peter dug his hands into the earth and the object became icky and squishy in his fingers. It was a small rotten apple, which only angered Peter given how hungry he was. But then a thought occurred to him. Could there be other apples nearby?

He looked up and saw that the tree he rested against was picked clean with the exception of a few rotten fruits. He pulled himself up and began searching the other trees. They were either too rotten or completely dead. Hunger became motivation to keep searching. Soon the trees were showing a little more rotten fruit but not by much. Some still had bits of green molding on the sides.

Finally, he came upon a tree that was showing some redder fruit near the top. Peter climbed up and spotted a few apples. They weren't totally red and probably bore a spot of mold or two, but they were edible enough. So Peter grabbed them and climbed down.

He practically tore off half of one apple as he took his first bite of food in days. It gave him the strength to keep going and he continued to search the trees, gathering as much good fruit as he could carry.

This place had to be some sort of abandoned farm or orchard as Peter saw two buildings past the many trees. One of them was now nothing more than a massive pile of rotten wood. The other was wearing at the sides, boarded up, and even had a few bits of graffiti.

The ground transformed from grass to aging concrete as Peter found himself staring at a very small abandoned house. It looked more like a cottage, so small in fact that brushes of dead nature seemed to be consuming it from one side. Crows were even zooming past Peter attracted to this particular side of the house. So Peter followed them. They were resting and pecking on a massive lump lying on the ground, surrounding by brushes and weeds.

Two dead bodies piled one on top of the other. They had to have been lying there for a very long time as most of the flesh had been completely pecked off by the birds. Peter was no longer a stranger to the dead and just stood there, looking at the corpse pile numbly. He didn't bother to walk away until the crows began to irritate him.

As he walked around the edge of the cottage, he stopped to listen. There was no wind, but he swore that he heard movement from inside the house. Peter crouched low and leaned his ear against the wall. For a moment, it almost sounded like a ghost was in there.

Childhood curiosity got the best of Peter and he found the boarded-up front door of the cottage, which was all worn. There was a hole at the bottom just big enough for himself to squirm in. And he did so, quietly and cautiously.

His eyes had adjusted to the darkness inside. Sunlight seeped through various cracks for Peter to find his way around. The strange rustling he heard was coming from the far corner of the living room. So Peter crept his way around the dusty furniture. He peaked around an old recliner…

…only to be attacked by a flying object. It almost killed him. His eyes turned to the source of the attack sitting the corner, a familiar source.

"Livvy!"

The little blonde looked up at Peter in disbelief. "Peter?" Her face was filled with surprise, relief, and fear.

But Peter was absolutely happy as he went and sat across from her. "Why d'you run away from me?"

Olivia was rocking back and forth in her corner with her arms hugging her knees. "I…I didn't want to hurt you."

"Don't worry. I'm perfectly fine."

She looked down at the floor in shame when she spotted the bloodstains on Peter's clothes. He asked her calmly "was that…was that what they make you do?"

Olivia nodded her head. She barely spoke above a whisper. "I can't control it."

"I bet you can. I've known you for a long time and I'm not dead. Doesn't that make me kinda special?"

She looked at him very confused. "I dunno."

"Well I think it does," he said very confidently. "I should know 'cause I'm a genius."

Peter heard a similar sound to the one he heard outside, almost like thunder. But now he realized it was Olivia's stomach growling.

"You've been here all this time? Did you find any food?"

She shook her head.

That's when Peter pulled out on one of the apples he gathered and offered it to her. She took it but didn't know what to do with it having forgotten what it was like to eat fruit.

"Just bite it," said Peter. "Don't worry, this one's chewable."

Despite missing a good amount of baby teeth, Olivia did her best to wrap her mouth around the apple and chewed. She got to the core in about a minute.

They both sat in that corner in silence finishing up Peter's supply of apples. It was Peter who finally got up to explore the house. There was a second floor that Olivia never bothered to touch since she came here. So the two of them quietly went up.

The whole cottage was about the size of a garage with a kitchen, living room, and bathroom on the bottom floor. There was a wooden ladder-looking staircase that led to an upper loft. A rickety king-size bed was taking up much of the space in that cramped room. That didn't bother Peter at all as he was extremely exhausted and just climbed into the bed.

"I don't think you should do that," Olivia mumbled nervously.

"It's fine. No one lives here anymore. We can stay here as long we want."

Olivia crawled into the spacious bed with Peter. "It's like Astrid's house here."

Peter smiled. "It does."

They would find ways to adjust to their new form of living with help from Peter's genius. They had what little apples they could gather just outside. There was even a water pump they got running again. The children didn't dare to turn on the electricity. It was important to not attract any attention to their shelter.

On some days, Peter and Olivia would walk a little ways from the cottage to discover their surroundings. They were always careful about it, never letting their presence be known to human civilization as they would encounter a few small farmhouses and a general store a few miles away. Gathering whatever goods they could scavenge, the children would always return to the safety of the cottage by nightfall.

The doors and windows remained boarded. There was never any light. And yet the children made the abandoned house their home.

It was the heart of summertime when the grass and trees were gaining green but the area still looked like it had been hit by a nuke. The children would often stay outside to occupy their time, keeping alert of anyone who might be around. But soon their fears seemed to lessen as they began to enjoy being outside. They never hung around the side of the cottage where the corpses were and the crows never bothered them.

"What's that?" Olivia asked pointing the strange thing from the house that Peter often carried with him outside.

"What? You've never seen a book before? Can you even read?"

"I dunno what reading is. Is it like knowing numbers?"

He then remembered, all those years Olivia spent in the lab, reading was probably never considered a necessity for these so called 'killers'. "Yeah, it's like that."

She then looked over this so-called book and asked Peter "can you show me how to read that?"

"You won't like this. It's Edgar Allan Poe. Very depressing stuff."

Olivia sat down next to Peter with great anticipation. "Just read it to me. I don't mind."

It was ironic in a way that the children would be reading books as dark as the past months have been for them, but they were the only kinds of books that were found in the house. Olivia became a fast learner and looked forward to reading her own books during the day. Peter did find one children's book. He couldn't believe it a first when he saw it. He saw the movie when he 4-years-old and thought it was too cutesy and boring. Still he thought that it would be a book that Olivia would enjoy and for a few nights they would read it together in bed before falling asleep.

It was Felix Salten's _Bambi: A Life in the Woods_. And much to Peter's horror as he read it to Olivia, the novel was darker and much more depressing than the cartoon.

And even though Olivia had never seen the cartoon, she loved hearing Peter read the book to her. She was less affected by all the death and the horror that the story entailed than Peter was.

"It's a lot like us, Peter."

He assumed she was referring to the two of them being hunted, having to hide constantly, having to fear the humans and their guns.

Peter agreed. The similarities were eerie and many.

--------

There were very few things that Olivia remembered before her mother abandoned her at Westwood. She barely remember being called Olivia before she was forced to go by the name 'Subject O'. But she remembered other little things too…like her birthday. And when she told Peter when it was, he was surprised to learn from his makeshift calendar that her birthday was tomorrow.

So that night, he snuck out of bed. He was very fearful about what he was about to do. If there was anything he feared more than being caught, it was getting separated from Olivia again. But for her birthday, he really wanted to do something special. So he traveled to the houses that they had discovered earlier and prayed that he would return alive.

"Peter?!" Olivia was yelling, having a panic attack when she got up around sunrise and didn't find Peter in the cottage at all.

She ran out and crashed into him. "Ow, what are you doing?!"

"You weren't around and I was scared."

"Sorry," said Peter. "I was getting you something."

"What?"

Out of his pocket, Peter pulled out a wrapped chocolate bar. "It's old but it's not open, so it should be good to eat." He gave it to her and said "Happy Birthday, Livvy."

Peter watched her consume the chocolate bar with pure delight. It would be one of many things that would make him happy to be here. Books and finding food became their form of play and enjoyment. There was very little innocence left for the children to indulge themselves in as they've become too exposed to the darkness, the merciless cruelty of reality. Some nights, Peter would wake up from terrifying memories, other times it was Olivia. They would find comfort with each other on those nights.

It was hope that made Peter realized: this place, despite how haunted and dreary it was…it was a new home, a new life. And with Olivia, it would be a good life they could have here. They had the essentials for surviving, books to occupy them, and best of all: no adults or madmen around to harm them anymore. As the months went on, the wounds that the children endured could now heal. Even the horrifying colors on Olivia's back were fading away without having to be replaced with fresh ones.

They never knew where exactly on earth they were or if they finally were in freer lands. They no longer seemed to care. Every time Peter and Olivia shared a laugh, a smile, or just had a nice peaceful moment napping under the dying apple trees, they felt free.

In the realms of his fading imagination, Peter could see this place as their own little Paradise…

--------

"Peter?" Olivia nudged him. Her voice heavy with worry as she tried harder to wake him.

"Huh?"

"I think someone's outside."

The alarm bells went off in Peter's head and he rushed to the little window in the room. It was very blurry but he was seeing exactly was Olivia was seeing: a small moving light. He kept his eyes focused. A small shadow followed the light and he was heading in the direction of the cottage.

Peter saw only one shadow, which meant that maybe…he and Olivia could take him. They would have to if they wanted to protect their Paradise.

"Come on," he motioned to Olivia and she quickly and quietly followed him down to the ground floor. Peter went to the kitchen and grabbed a rusty old kitchen knife and an old extension cord. He passed one end of the cord to Olivia as she stood on one side of the front door. "Stay there and hold it tight."

He went to the opposite end of the room with his end of the cord and lied low. Olivia did the same. They waited in silence; Peter had the knife ready in one hand while the other gripped the cord in a sweat. Whether or not he would need to use the knife, Peter didn't know.

Both held their breath as the door to their home was being pried open. The stranger took only a few steps in before tripping over the cord and crashing to the ground. Peter quickly wrapped his half of the cord around the stranger's legs. As the man turned over, Peter was ready with the knife.

When the man eyes opened and stared straight into Peter's, there was no movement. The knife fell out of Peter's hands to the ground as he and Olivia looked at the face of the man with absolute horror.

"Peter?"

Good god. The man sounded…looked exactly like 'him'. But at the same time it didn't seem like 'him' at all. His face seemed sadder, almost gentle…not like the one that betrayed him…the one who hurt him.

"My boy…" Hands reached up to touch Peter's cheeks. The man was crying. "Oh, my boy…"

"Don't touch me!" Peter shoved the hands away. "You're not my dad!"

"Oh…" said the man. "But I am…I mean…I am your father…from another place. A far away place."

Peter quivered in fear. "You…you can't be him. My dad…hurt me. Y-y-you tried to kill me!"

"No…not me, Peter. I'm not the Walter Bishop who would ever harm a child."

Olivia was also in denial of the man they knew as Dr. Walt clearly lying before them, yet at the same time she could sense something different about him…that was far different from the one who hurt her all those years. The Dr. Walt she knew never looked so…emotional.

"Two years it's been," Walter cried. "And now you're here…alive again!"

Peter had enough. Walter's unusual behavior was getting too odd and terrifying. "Livvy, let's get out of here."

The children left the man and ran for the front door. Walter got up and pursued them. "No! Wait!"

They were now helpless and exposed as they ran, Walter close behind them…until he pulled out his taser gun. Set it to lowest level. "Forgive me, Peter. I can't lose you again."

Peter kept running until he heard Olivia cry out. Walter missed his intended target, but Peter didn't care about that. He went straight back to Olivia, and held her unconscious form as Walter came closer and closer to them. "We're not going back! Stay away from us!!!"

Peter felt a pinch of electricity in his body, soon followed by pain and dizziness. Walter watched remorsefully as his son fell unconscious by Olivia's side.

"Oh Peter!" Walter went to cradle his boy in his arms. "What have they done do you?! What horrors have you been put through?!" He couldn't believe how malnourished his son looked. "And so skinny. But we can fatten you up again. Don't worry. I'll take the terrible memories away. They'll never hurt you again." Tears were streaming down Walter's face. "Time to take you home, my son! My son!!!"


	10. PRESENT DAY I

_**Miss this fic? It's back in action! I had to make "Eternal Weaving" a top priority first since this is an AU fic and I don't feel as bad about working on it in the middle of a season. Also there's a bit of writer's block...always with the damn writer's block! :P**_

_**This is where the changing point in the story happens. Get ready! ;)**_

_**__________________________________________________________**_

Deep breaths…big deep breaths.

The sweat was so cold, Peter could feel the droplets chill his bare skin the moment he woke. This was not him. Peter Bishop was not one to have nightmares…well, not the type that virtually left him almost screaming.

Then again, what constituted for nightmares anymore? He could've very well been living out visions of an alternate life for all he knew. Because it felt so real. Every time he saw the scenario in his mind…it seemed too real to be a dream.

He went to the bathroom sink and doused his face with lukewarm water. In the mirror, he swore he saw a glimpse of the pale-faced beaten down version of his boyhood self. It was like seeing a ghost in the mirror. It was terrifying.

"Bad dreams, son?"

Peter returned to the room. Walter still lied unmoving on the couch.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Do you care to talk about it?"

"With you?" Peter wanting to get his mind off of the dream grabbed a shirt he carelessly tossed to the floor earlier. "I don't think so."

Walter mumbled. "I think it would be best…"

"You really think it best, Walter? Okay fine…for several nights I've been having nightmares of you trying to kill me as a kid. But I think tonight's topped all of them. You were chasing me through a haunted orchard with a taser gun! Happy?"

Walter's eyes shot wide open, his jaw dropped slightly then slowly closed as he tried to find the words.

"Were you alone?"

Peter stopped the struggle to get into his jeans halfway. "What?"

"When I was chasing you through the orchard…were you alone?"

Peter shook his head. "I dunno…there might have been someone else…but…why does that matter?"

Walter sighed. Maybe Peter was right. Still he couldn't help but have this feeling. He couldn't see Peter's dreams for himself but something in his mind told him that scenario…there had to have been a third person there. He just had that feeling…

"I suppose you're right."

Peter got into his clothes as fast as he could. "Going for a drink?" Walter mumbled.

Being who he was, Peter decided to be a smart-ass as to where he was obviously going at 2:30 in the morning. "No…I'm going to Disneyland."

"Bring me back a churro and a Mickey bar, will you?"

Peter shook his head and then grabbed his jacket.

_**It's a small world, after all…**_

He groaned and hurriedly rushed out the door.

_**It's a small world, after all**_

_**It's a small world, after all**_

_**It's a small, small, world!**_

--------

Peter didn't even recall how he got to the lab. Did he really have THAT much to drink?

The blurry lights seeping through his retinas seemed to be his main clue. He was sleeping against a desk the whole time. Fortunately, it had only been 6 hrs since he went out drinking. There was no case yet, and Walter and Astrid were the only ones in the lab.

In fact Astrid was standing over him right now.

"How was your night, Peter?"

Peter barely lifted his head up to her. "Peachy."

He heard a strange melodic mumbling in his ears. "What am I hearing?"

"Walter," said Astrid. Yes it was in fact Walter singing. "You didn't by any chance say anything about Disneyland to him lately, have you?"

"Ugh," said Peter. "I was being sarcastic."

"Well now Walter won't stop singing Disneyland songs. I mentioned it once before when you and Olivia were working on a case, and I couldn't get him for stop for six hours!"

Walter's lyrics now playfully bounced around the lab as he was digging through an old collection of photographs.

_**We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot**_

_**Drink up, me 'earties. Yo-ho!**_

_**We kidnap, we ravage, and don't give a hoot**_

_**Drink up, me 'earties. Yo-ho!**_

Astrid shook her head.

_**Yo-ho! Yo-ho! A pirates' life for me!!!**_

"Another day of this. That's what we're gonna get." Astrid accidentally inhaled the alcoholic breath within Peter's circle. She walked away disgusted. "Nice going, Stink."

Peter's head shot up. "What was that? What did you call me?"

Astrid turned back to see the look of shock on Peter's face. "Geez, Peter. No need to get offensive. I was just saying your breath smells and you could use a mint after all that drinking."

It didn't calm Peter's nerves any better. Why did every word or every thought lately seemed to strike him like a bad nightmare?

Almost as if it were meant to happen, Olivia suddenly came into the lab.

_**We're rascals, scoundrels, villains, and knaves**_

_**Drink up, me 'earties. Yo-ho!**_

_**We're devils and black sheep, and really bad eggs.**_

_**Drink up, me 'earties. Yo-ho!**_

She was already smiling the moment Walter greeted her. "Yar. Good day Agent Dunham!"

"Good day," Olivia laughed. "What's got you singing Pirates of the Caribbean all of the sudden?"

"Only good memories." Walter happily pulled out what he was looking for from out of the box. "Ah-ha! I knew it was here! From our second trip to Disneyland. Don't you remember, Peter?"

Peter looked up at Walter groggy-eyed. "I don't remember a second trip. I can barely remember the first one."

Ah but this is from the trip I took you to after I…" Walter froze. "Oh…I can't remember what happened before we went." He mood got cheery again… "But I do remember waiting two hours in line for you to meet that princess you liked so much."

Astrid immediately started laughing. "Peter had a princess crush?!"

"On Sleeping Beauty. I have the Kodak moment right here!"

"WALTER, NO!!!" Peter got up horrified at the 5x7 souvenir photograph that Walter seemed to be waving at him from across the lab. Astrid was already rushing over to Walter. "I gotta see this!"

Olivia gave an evil smirk. "Me too."

"Dammit!" Peter trailed behind the women, unable to spare himself from embarrassment. "Walter put that damn photo away!!!"

Astrid and Olivia were already peering at the photograph and giggled like common schoolgirls. "Aw, Peter," Astrid teased. "You look so chubby-faced and cute!"

"Not my fault," said Peter. "Walter was over-feeding me back then. He forced me to eat 5 giant meals a day. I don't knoww why. I'm pretty sure he was fattening me up to eat me knowing him."

"That's ridiculous, boy," said Walter.

"It explains why you thought I'd be fatter when I showed up at St. Claire's!"

By this time Peter's annoyance with Walter was fading and he just wanted to grab the photo and toss it into the river. But the photo was now in Olivia's hands and she was looking at it with great interest.

Except the look on her face seemed very focus, almost as if she was looking for something in the photo.

"Okay, yeah…I was fat back then. You happy?"

"It's not that," Olivia said all of the sudden.

Peter was starting to look concerned. "You okay? What is it?"

After staring at it for a few seconds, Olivia finally realized what she was doing and shook her head. "Sorry. It's just you kinda reminded me of someone."

"My younger, fatter self reminded you of someone?" Peter didn't know whether to take offense to that statement or be pleasantly surprised.

"Well, maybe not…I guess I was just thinking of a dream I had. When was this picture taken?"

"I was around 10…9 maybe…" A trigger went off in Peter's head. Suddenly he was looking at Olivia with his heart rapidly pacing.

She looked worried now. Damn. "You okay, Peter? You look like you're about to turn pale on us."

Peter blinked, then shook his head. "Nah. Just been having trouble sleeping lately. Bad dreams. Stuff like that."

"Well, I should know all about that," said Olivia a bit embarrassed behind the truth in her words. "Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?"

"Some other time."

He thought the dreams would stop. That was the only reason he didn't want to tell Olivia about them.

But now they were getting worse.

--------

He was a boy…always a boy. He wasn't quite sure of his age because he felt so weak…so small…so scared.

He was locked up in a dark box, more like an animal cage. Strapped to a cold metal bed, tortured and taunted. Or he was a slave.

It was a little bit different, yet very connected, with each passing night.

In the midst of hearing invisible children screaming and crying, he could hear one voice standing out: a young girl's voice, sounding very weak and emotionless. He doesn't know what she is saying but he knew she existed. It was the darkness, the four cold stone walls that separated them. He likes the voice. It's very soothing to him although she sounded as broken…just as scared.

Sometimes, Peter thought about putting a face to go with that voice.

They say that people dream within a dream or recall memories of other dreams while dreaming. Somehow with the kind of nightmares Peter was having, such mind tricks didn't surprise him. In his dreams of being in a dark cage, hearing nothing but child screams and the voice of that little girl, Peter thought of only one face.

A blonde very skinny little girl. She looked so worn and beaten like Peter…even worse behind the rags she…more like they…wore. Peter couldn't help but imagine all the dark colors on her skin. He felt bad for thinking of the poor kid like this, but his mind couldn't help the image it always conjured up as he dreamed.

Worse was that no matter how much the girl's presence comforted him…the whole scene would turn into a nightmare.

And this was the worst.

Peter is walking through a scary looking house…he knows he's a prisoner in…to the source of screams he was hearing. He peeks his head into the room and sees the bodies of two grown men…one, maybe both, he swears he's seen their faces before…their heads explode and they collapse onto one another as bloody corpses revealing the little girl cowering in the corner. The blood from the bodies forming a pool on the floor flowing in her direction. A good amount of splash back had already stained her pale cheeks. She turns to look at Peter with those small, terrified eyes.

That's when Peter woke up in a cold sweat again. But this time he had willed his mind to wake himself up…

He was guilty…guilty of imagining a girl in his worst nightmares that reminded him too much of someone…all for his own comfort. It was stupid. He would never think of putting another innocent soul…let alone a child, into his nightmares for such a selfish purpose.

The dream changes once again as he finally forces himself back to sleep…

…the damn apple orchard he dreamed of just the night prior.

The area was so dead it had to either be a snow-less winter or a nuclear holocaust. And behind him as the little Bishop boy ran was Walter, pulling out a taser gun.

He didn't know why he was running from him or why he was so terrified of him.

Then again…it was Walter.

At that very moment Peter could hear his question from last night, echoing in his ears.

"_Were you alone?"_

Now he sees the damn little girl again as he looks back. She's struggling to catch up with Peter.

She was running from Walter too!

Images began to cloud his vision. A playhouse…a vicious Doberman falling to its death from a fence…blood dripping from a basement ceiling…crows pecking at corpses.

He couldn't get the images to stop.

He rushes back to the little girl knowing that Walter would hit her by accident. Peter knew the taser gun was meant for him, not her. He remembered…

He remembered the dream being exactly like it was 24 hours ago.

And now he knew, Peter wasn't alone as he ran from the nightmarish version of his own father.

Now only one question remained: How did Walter know?


	11. PRESENT DAY II

_**Sorry this update took longer than planned. Blame it on my ADHD and unexpected power outage due to a tree my mom wanted to get rid of! XD**_

_**__________________________________________________**_

"I hope that's coffee."

Peter jolted in his seat, the brown liquid barely staying in his coffee cup as it swished about. It was too late to hide the shock. Olivia was now looming over him bearing a suspicious authoritarian glance, typically used in her criminal investigations.

But then, it began to soften into a more gentle…more worried form. Peter could not look at her as she took a seat in a stool next to him.

"Hey…I'm really worried about you."

Peter smirked, looking back down at his cup of coffee. "Isn't that suppose to be my line for you?"

Olivia smirked at his irony. "The coffee says you're having trouble sleeping. It's the dreams again, isn't it?"

"They're just dreams, Liv."

"Something tells me they're not. This isn't like you, Peter."

"Liv…"

"It's more like me. Can't you at least tell me what's bothering you?"

Peter sipped his coffee. "What for? I doubt Walter has some sort of kooky invention to solve something as normal as a bad dream."

"But it's getting to you, Peter. I can tell. I can understand."

"I'm not like you, Liv!"

She must've shown a twitch of fear at Peter's sudden snap, because the guilt was starting to settle in. But Olivia wasn't going to give up and she was going to give it to him straight. "Well, whether you ARE like me or not, I think you owe me one. You know, it wasn't easy for me to open up to you about everything that I've been going through but I did…because I knew you weren't going to stop worrying about me. And that whole thing with my stepfather, I owed you that explanation or else you would've never understood. Well I want to understand you…so please…just let me do for you what you've always done for me…"

Peter was speechless. He never thought that she knew that HE cared about HER. Now she actually thought that he deserved to be cared for. She actually believed that she was indebted to him. "You know, Liv. I'm envious of you sometimes. Yeah…that's sounds kinda bad of me to say. But at least Walter somehow manages to find an explanation for all the crazy sh*t that's going on in your head. I'm just a normal guy who has normal nightmares. There's nothing freaky or messed up about that. No matter how bad they are, I have to just deal with it. But yeah…they're getting bad. Just lemme ask you something? When you have your…nightmares or whatever we should be calling them, what happens when you wake up? I mean, how do you feel?"

Olivia shrugged. "I don't know. I guess I just take my time to wake up and accept that it really was all a dream."

"But don't you feel ever like crap afterwards?"

"I try not to. I do feel scared for a little while…but it goes away. Are you…scared of something?"

Peter shook his head. "The truth is…I don't think the dreams bother me as much as…how I feel afterwards. I wake up scared for a second, and then I start to feel really…empty. Everytime, I wake up, it feels like something was torn out of me and that's when I start to feel like crap. All because I woke up. I almost want to go back to sleep…so I can go back and finish what's happened…but I know it's going to. So yeah, a sh*tload of guilt and unfinished business…that sort of thing's more fit for a psychologist than a mad scientist, don't you think?"

"Peter…" He didn't have to look at Olivia to know that she was bearing that look of pity on her face. "Damn," said Peter. "That has got to be the most pathetic confession I've ever made to anyone."

Suddenly, he felt something brushing his hand, which almost made him turn cold. Looking down and seeing Olivia's fingers touching his own made Peter feel…very, very awkward. And not just because that he never thought that a woman he had the hots for would ever make that kind of contact with him. ;)

In a way, he couldn't believe it either. There seemed to be a mutual understanding between the two of them. It was already apparent that Peter could take Olivia's hand into his and her hellish world would be calmed in an instant. She felt more relaxed, more hopeful, when their hands came into contact.

He didn't think Olivia could do that for him in return and yet here she was…taking his hand with a very eerie sense of familiarity. That empty feeling was soon forgotten, and all Peter could think of now was that he swore he felt this kind of calm before…LONG before he even met Olivia.

"You should take it easy," Olivia said as she got up.

"Well." Peter gave her a humorous smile. "Maybe I don't want to." Little did Olivia know that Peter was being serious. "Maybe, I prefer you stay here and hold my hand a little longer while I conduct more sob stories for you to drool all over me."

She looked back at him, laughing and rolling her eyes. Peter has to be okay. He had to be. "See you tomorrow, Peter…I hope you find what it was you were missing."

Soon as Olivia left, the strange empty feeling in Peter began to consume him again, and he knew he was going to have more nightmares tonight.

-------

_He couldn't stop crying. The fear was taking him over and he absolutely hated it. He also hated it how their captors left them down in this basement without any light. They were expected to be in bed before sunset and sleep through the darkness._

_But Peter could no longer be like this…not after what he went through in the lab._

_After days of attempting to reach the only window in the attic, only to have it completely barred, he was losing out hope. The gate that blocked their way to freedom would only lead them straight back into the hands of the adults upstairs._

"_Peter?"_

_He couldn't look at the source of the voice, embarrassed that his crying had woken her._

"_They're gonna hurt us," Peter said between sobs. "They're gonna hurt us like they did in the lab."_

_His companion didn't say anything. She only gave him a sad face…one of understanding. Even she knew that was likely what would happen if they stay in this bad place any longer._

_She also feared that they would probably never leave._

"_I haveta get out!" Peter yelled. This made the girl jump. Peter jumped on his bed again and made several more pathetic attempts to reach the window._

"_Don't."_

_Peter gave up and sat back on the bed. She was apparently more worried about waking up their captors than she was about escaping. She reached a hand out to him. Her fingers tracing his and Peter whispered "ow."_

_She was very sad to feel less skin on Peter and more scabs and blisters. "Oh, is that what he does to you up there?"_

"_It's not him," said Peter. "It's the stupid work he makes me do. Hurts like hell."_

_When her arm started shaking, she finally pulled her hand away from his, but she couldn't help but stare at the wounds, without much emotion._

"_What do YOU do up there?"_

_This had to be the third or fifth or eighth time Peter had asked this of her since they were brought here, but she never answers. She only gave him silence as she usually did._

"_I have to try," said Peter. "I'm gonna find a way out of here."_

"_When you find a way out…" The girl was struggling to find the right words. "…are you…I mean…do I get to go with you?"_

_Peter was surprised by her question. "That's stupid…of course you're coming with me."_

_He could sense a wide smile coming from the girl as she turned and went back to sleep in her own bed._

_She was happy…happy in this terrible place with him. He was confused by the feeling, it just made him want to cry again._

"Peter? Son? What's wrong?"

He ignored the noise distracted by the wet and puffy feeling consuming his own face.

"Oh. My poor boy." Two wrinkly hands came to touch those cheeks.

"Ah! Damn it Walter! What are you doing?!"

"I was going to ask you the same thing."

"What do you mean?!"

"You've been standing against the bathroom door crying your eyes out for minutes."

Peter rubbed his eyes to confirm. He was confused. He couldn't remember why he was standing against the door or why he even started to cry.

"Was…I?" Peter asked a bit embarrassed, annoyed, afraid. "Maybe I was just sleepwalking."

"No one sleepwalks in their day-clothes, boy."

Peter looked down and sure enough he was still in regular clothes…in fact it wasn't even nighttime yet. "Well maybe I just got really tired and passed out."

"You were quite awake Peter. I've been watching you standing there, looking off into nothing."

"Oh, thanks a lot," Peter said angrily. "I'm already feeling like sh*t and now I'm also creeped out!"

"But you were well awake, Peter. You were thinking of something. Was it by any chance something you didn't want for dinner? If it's too much for you to find a churro for me, then we can have something else…shortcakes perhaps?"

Peter started moving around, running his hands through his hair, barely able to contain the confusing strain of emotions…all of which were setting him on the edge of killing Walter. "No Walter…I…"

"Peter? Are you alright?"

Peter breathed in a heavy sigh, giving Walter a fake, but assuring smile. "I'm fine, Walter."

"Are you…?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, sorry. I'm just…tired…stressed." His impulses immediately got him reaching for his jacket. "I need some fresh air."

"Oh…I suppose you won't be back?"

Peter put his fake smile on again. "I'll go get your churros and bring them back here. I should feel better by then, alright?"

Walter was happy again. "Oh yes…thank you…and maybe some Crystal Pepsi? I heard of it at St. Claire's. It sounds quite intriguing. I would like to see how…"

"They don't make those anymore, Walter."

"Oh." He sounded very disappointed. "The churros, then."

Peter finally went out and quietly walked the streets to the nearest store. All the while he couldn't help but breathe to the point of near hyperventilation. Was Walter right? Was he really awake and conscious when that scene came to him? It was probably a bad memory of his bad dreams. That had to be it.

But then, he never recalled a dream like that. His dreams of his childhood were full of darkness, torture, and blood. This was different. This was the first time he ever saw his younger self, crying in that little girl's presence.

Yet he swore to all the gods in the universe that it was all a ginormous deja vu. He knew he didn't dream it. He would remember dreaming something that creepy.

He wasn't even tired today.

Then it occurred to him: he was thinking about how Olivia had touched his hand earlier that day. Suddenly, he bore the thought of someone touching his small, blood-crusted hand…and he had become completely absorbed.

Not only that, but the moments to follow…the words that were spoken, it all came falling into place with great ease of his mind.

Peter stopped walking and froze in the middle of a sidewalk.

He knew exactly why he saw himself crying and what that little girl asked of him. He knew because what he saw back in the hotel room wasn't a dream.

He was very conscious when the thoughts consumed him. He knew so because Walter was watching that damn _Lost_ show about a mysterious plane crash and making absurd criticisms about that absurd smoke monster.

It didn't feel like some sort of insane trigger of the mind, like the ones Olivia experienced in the tank. This thought felt really normal…neither dream nor acid trip.

The scenario of the basement and the little girl was a memory…

…a real memory.


	12. PRESENT DAY III

Peter was digging through old boxes like a mad man. A lot of the boxes he brought from his place, combined with some keepsake boxes Walter often had lying around in the lab. And Walter, while very excited about digging through old fond memories, became very worried…and a bit suspicious.

"Are you sure you don't wish to tell me what you're looking for?"

"Look, Walter. It's not something I know I'm looking for until I see it. But when I do…I think it might trigger something, a memory. You know what I'm talking about. You have it all the time when I mention food."

"Oh…you're becoming like your old man everyday, Peter. I'm so proud of…"

"Just shut up and keep looking through those boxes."

Astrid was very nervous upon entering the lab. She had been gone all day retrieving the materials that Peter requested and was stunned to find him turning the lab upside down. He looked like a man in complete disarray.

"Astrid! Did you get them?"

"Uh…yeah." She put the books on the table. "John Tobin Elementary School and Shady Hill School Yearbooks all dating between 1984 and 1988."

Peter grabbed the yearbooks and started flipping desperately through them. "Walter, what school did I go to in second and third grade?"

Walter was sweating. "I told you before boy, and I'll tell you again, you went to the Shady Hill School…and then you transferred to John Tobin for the 4th Grade."

"That would've been around 1986. That's when I would've been in 2nd grade, but look at this!" Peter shoved the yearbook in Walter's face. "No picture of me, Walter! No class picture. My name's not even listed in the not-pictured section!"

Peter snatched the manila folder from Astrid's hands and Peter the papers one at a time, sorting the sheets on one of the lab tables in piles.

Walter carefully approached him. "Peter…"

"Back off Walter! I'm gonna prove to you that I'm not crazy!"

"Care to specify on that?"

Peter took a breath, his voice in absolute distress. "Something's wrong, Walter…something's wrong. I know what my life was like…I know what my childhood was like. But I've been getting these memories and they don't connect with the ones I've spent the past 20 years recalling. I can't believe the things that I used to Walter, and I can't explain it…I can't prove it…but I think my mind's been lying to me…"

"Oh, Peter." Peter shrugged Walter off of him and hastily continued to sort through the papers ignoring everyone around him…unaware that Astrid got out her phone and retreated to the office.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Olivia…" Astrid was shaking. "I think you need to come back to the lab."

"What? Why? What's wrong?"

"It's Peter." Astrid cut to the chase. "He's acting really, really weird. He's got the lab turned upside down and he's flipping out more than usual. Walter and I are getting a bit scared."

"He's acting weird? Like Walter Bishop weird?"

"Oh, he's close to getting there."

That was enough to convince Olivia to get the lab as soon as she could.

Peter meanwhile was waving papers in Walter's face. "Look Walter! These are student records of all the elementary schools in the Boston area. 1985-1987. NOT ONE of them has my name on it, Walter! I've never been to second or third grade at any of these schools."

The sweat was building beneath Walter's wrinkles. "Son…best if you calm down and listen to…"

"NO! I can't calm down Walter! I'm losing my mind! All the nightmares I've been having for god knows how long…I think they're memories. But it doesn't make any sense! None of it does! Unless…" Peter tired to calm down. "Unless I'm being lied to."

Walter was about ready to pee in his pants.

"Peter?" Astrid was looking through one of the old yearbooks waiting for Olivia to show up. She handed one yearbook over to him. "I think you might want to look at this."

Peter took the opened yearbook in his hands. The one of Shady Hills, Class of 1985. Peter had never owned a yearbook before the fourth grade, so he expected to see his first grade photo for the first time.

He did.

It was a whole page devoted to one picture of his 7-year-old self. Above the picture in giant bold letters was a message that made his blood run cold:

**SHADY HILLS REMEMBERS PETER BISHOP 1978-1985**

**Our Hearts and Prayers Go to the Bishop Family In Honor of This Wonderful Child They Have Lost**

Peter was shaking. "Walter…what the hell is this?"

Walter had nervously urinated a few drops in his pants. He never wanted this day to come. He never thought of it, nor expected it to.

"This is a memorial page. This says I died but…"

"Peter…there is much you do not understand."

Peter could only look at him with a very scared and confused look…

…so much like the young boy that Walter knew.

"You're right, Walter." Peter was tearing up. "I don't understand."

"What kind of memories have you been having?"

Peter was unsure whether his father should hear this. "People hurting me…putting me in dark rooms. I…I saw you. You dragged me and threw me into a cage."

Astrid listened in on the conversation completely shocked by Peter's account of his childhood.

"You hurt me, Walter…"

"No boy…it wasn't."

"I know," Peter said kindly. "I know you wouldn't. I actually believe you wouldn't. But that's what I saw and now I don't know…"

Walter cupped his son's trembling face into his own hands. "Peter…listen to me. The Walter Bishop, the one you knew in your childhood. It was not me. I swear to you! He was not me in body or mind. You must believe me!"

Peter in a surprising case of helplessness allowed Walter to finally pull him into his arms. "What's happening to me, Walter?"

After shedding a few tears, it was the sudden opening of the door that made Peter look up.

It had to be the worse day of his life. There he was completely losing it, and Olivia made her entrance into the lab…just to see him melt into a pathetic mess.

Now he just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

Walter looked up and announced to everyone in the lab. "I propose we go on a field trip, please."

--------

Four souls now stood in a graveyard…surrounding a tombstone that Walter could no longer keep secret.

Peter was the first to slowly approach it. His fingers slightly tracing along the embossed letters that spelled out his name.

The yearbooks and the school records made sense now…but everything else was still a mystery. And Peter still did not know how to feel. Horrified? Angry? Scared? Pity?

"This cant be right, Walter," Olivia demanded. "This has to be another Peter Bishop."

"No," Peter sighed. Somehow he knew…he just knew it was HIS grave. "This is Walter's son alright."

"But that doesn't make any sense," said Astrid. "If that's Peter Bishop, then…who are you?"

"I dunno. Interesting question, don't you think, Walter? Did you snatch me from some orphanage and brainwashed me into thinking I was your son?"

"Peter, that's absurd. I would never brainwash a random child for non-experimental purposes anyway. I only gave you memories to protect your damaged mind. Happy boyhood memories."

"Happy boyhood memories of what?! Being hooked to wires?! Seeing how long I could go without dying?! Having your assistants beat and threaten me?! I could swear at one point you were trying to get me to kill a little girl…but I can't…"

"PETER! STOP!"

He realized why Olivia had to yell at him. Peter had Walter by his shirt collar in one hand. The other was formed into a fist aiming just feet away from Walter's sad sorry face.

Ever so slowly, Peter's hold on his so-called father finally loosened. All he could do now was kneel by the grave and cry.

"It was that blasted bird flu," said Walter. "I know I shouldn't have lied to you, but when I saw where you came from. The life you were living there…"

Peter was confused. "Where I came from? What do you mean?"

"It took me two years after you died to perfect it, the machine that would allow me to go back through time and retrieve you. It was by mere accident that the machine would serve another purpose. Instead of sending me back in time, it gave me a different version of our time. One where you were alive and miserable."

"The other reality," said Olivia. "Peter is from the other reality?"

Peter shook his head. "Heh, it makes sense doesn't it…what with you being Walter and all. Taking me from everything I knew for your own selfish purposes…"

"Selfish?!" said Walter. "What I did has benefited us both, Peter! Terrible things were done to you over there and I saved you! I saved you Peter! You and I were meant to be together in THIS world!"

"Am I supposed to really believe that?!"

"You must believe me, Peter. Why else would your real memories return now?"

Olivia and Astrid went wide-eyed. Real memories?

"So all that stuff I've seen," said Peter. "You trying to kill me…that was real?"

"Not me, Peter!" pleaded Walter. "It was not ME…please…"

"Hey." Olivia came and made a barrier between Walter and Peter, fearing that he would try to attack him again. "I think you two need some time apart. Cool your heads." Olivia gently tugged Peter by the arm and walked him away from the grave.

Walter and Astrid remained there. "You believe me…" Walter said nervously. "Don't you, Asterim?"

Astrid could only give him a comforting half-hug.

"To think," said Peter as he walked with Olivia. "I was starting to feel left out of the whole Freaks Club."

Olivia didn't know how to respond to that. She was scared of Peter at the moment, unable to predict his next wave of emotions. "So those dreams you were having…"

"I didn't think they were memories until just yesterday, Liv."

"I believe you."

Peter stopped walking as a tear slowly formed down his eye. "I let down someone."

"Who?"

"I…I think it was that little girl, the one they tried to make me kill."

"You mean Walter?"

"Or Alter-Walter, whatever. Point is, that little girl...I keep seeing her in my memories. I remember getting away, escaping…and I'm pretty sure she was with me. But I don't know what happened to her. I don't even remember her name or if she survived. It's killing me."

Olivia sighed. "Peter, maybe you're better off not knowing. If the truth hurts, then maybe additional truths will just hurt more. Learning about the Cortexiphan trials was hard enough on me. I don't think I'd be able to handle anymore of my past coming out that I don't even remember."

"Me neither," Peter said softly. "You're right…but it's gonna be hell trying to get some sleep tonight. I know I'm just gonna have more memories again, but I don't know if I'm ready to…"

Cautiously, Olivia's hand had found his once more…the weight of his pounding thoughts were lightly supported by the gesture. It was eerie and comforting. It was like the world was ending but he was feeling better, more hopeful about things.

"We'll get through this," said Olivia. "We'll get you through this."

Strange and unexplainable as it was, Olivia's words had manage to calm him.

And much to everyone's surprise, Peter and Walter went home together…both knowing that new memories would be invading Peter's thoughts tonight. It was pointless to ask Walter anymore questions given his own forgetfulness…

Tonight, whatever happened, Peter's dreams would be doing all the explaining.

--------

Just as he expected…darkness, the screams of children, being trapped in a dark closet, dead bodies…all hitting Peter like a ton of bricks…a ton of nightmarish bricks.

And Peter could actually recall seeing these horrible visions flash before him as a boy.

_He shot up screaming in the rickety old bed. Tears were streaming down his face and he was about to call for his mother…until he remembered his mother had abandoned him._

_It was a terrible thing for a young child to be left waking from nightmares without someone to comfort them. It didn't help matters that a strange rumbling could be heard outside and brief flashes of light…and finally, a pattering that struck every side of the house._

_He looked to his side. The other occupant of the bed had gone missing. His heart seemed to have completely stopped all together._

_Looking out over the edge, Peter could only find the scattered books and playing cards that had occupied their time here. He was struggling to find his voice, call out for her, but nothing would come out with the raging storm at hand._

_He grabbed the old flashlight he found and began his search. She wouldn't go out in this weather…least, he hope she wouldn't._

_Many minutes later, he would find her…oddly enough in the bathroom, which the children hardly used. The toilet stopped working ages ago, and the bathtub was pretty moldy. But there she was…sitting inside of the bathtub in her clothes, curling herself in as much as possible._

_She saw Peter with the flashlight in hand. "Close the door!"_

_Peter quickly obeyed and but remained in the bathroom. He flashed the light on the girl and she became irritated, almost very upset. She didn't like the light at all._

"_What are you doing?" asked Peter._

"_I don't like the lights," she said shaking. "I don't like the lights outside."_

"_You mean the lightning? It's okay to be scared of storms. I wont hold it against you."_

_The girl looked confused. "A storm? The lights are…a storm?"_

"_Part of the storm. What did you think they were?"_

"_The lab."_

_Peter felt stupid for not realizing thid was what she meant sooner. "It's not the lab. The lab's far away from here."_

"_But they're looking for us."_

"_They wont find us, not here."_

"_Are you sure?"_

"_Of course I am," Peter lied. "Come back upstairs. I don't wanna sleep alone."_

"_I still don't like the lights."_

"_I don't like them either. But I don't like sleeping in a bathroom either."_

_Peter reached out and gently grabbed the girl's hand. She shifted herself up, allowing Peter to help her out of the tub and the two went back upstairs._

_The storm raged on as they got under the covers. The blankets made it darker, revealing less of the lightning flashes coming from the window. She seemed to prefer the dark…far more than Peter._

_After what seemed like forever, the little girl finally ceased her shaking. Lightning was still apparent outside, but she wasn't as bothered now with Peter here with her. She didn't know how to thank him. _

_She could barely recall kisses on the cheek that her dad would often give her before bedtime or after a job well done._ _So unexpectedly, she leaned over to Peter. A light peck landed on his cheek…soft as a butterfly's landing. And with that, Peter was in shock._

_Thank god for the darkness as his face blushed into all shades of red._

"_Goodnight, Peter."_

_She had already closed her eyes and slowly allowed sleep to take her in._

_Peter took her hand in his. He was the happiest boy again…though in the worst possible place. It was clear that the two of them were getting physically weaker by the day. Food was harder to come by and Peter wasn't sure if she knew anything about death by malnutrition. He knew they were on their way there._

_On the other hand, after all the hell they've endured, he couldn't think of a more peaceful place to spend what may be the last of his own life._

_And he got to spend it with her…he needed no one else._

"_Goodnight…" He squeezed her hand gently. "…Olivia."_

Peter woke up screaming for the first time in 21 years.


	13. PRESENT DAY IV

_**Dudes! I was so psyched about all the reviews I got the other day, that I had to do an update ASAP just to thank you. I guess that should be a hint to you all. Shower me again with reviews like that and you could see another update coming your way quicker than you think! ;)**_

_**I'm writing more "Crazy-Peter" in this chap, so I hope you enjoy reading Crazy-Peter as much as I enjoy writing it! :D**_

_**______________________________________________________**_

_THUD!_

"Walter! Up! Get up!"

Peter found himself doing something he hadn't done since he was a child…jump on his father's bed, urging him awake as if it were Christmas.

Walter didn't open his eyes until Peter started shaking him. "Walter?"

"Son," he mumbled. "Christmas is not for another 5 hours."

"Walter, I need to ask you something very important, and God help me, you're going to give me an answer!" Peter was now grabbing his wrinkly cheeks trying to keep him awake. "When you went to the other place…the other reality…hey!" Peter lightly slapped his father's cheeks. "Listen to me! When you came to get me…when you brought me back…did you bring ANYONE else back with you?"

"Huh?" said Walter. "What was that?"

"Dammit, Walter! Did you bring anyone else back with you from the other world?! Another kid?!"

He was still very confused. "I…"

"Walter! Answer me!"

"I…"

There was silence in the room. The only sound came from Peter's fast beating heart. There would be no relief regardless of what Walter's answer was…but Peter needed to know.

So he waited for Walter to remember…

"I don't know."

Peter dropped his head, shaking it in defeat. "You don't know," he groaned. "You don't know…of course…of course you wouldn't know. Here I am thinking I could get some answers from a man who doesn't even know how to use a soap dispenser!"

"Well I was so use to washing my hair in the bathroom sinks at St. Claire's," explained Walter. "I assumed that was what the soap dispensers WERE for…"

A loud thud. Peter had struck the wall in anger. "How can you not know?! You went over there to save me and bring me here and you can't remember anything from that?!"

Walter was getting angry with his son's anger. "I don't appreciate you insulting my lack of memory for the thousandth time, boy. If you can remember much more than I can, then you would already have the answer to your question. Now if you don't mind, I must get back to bed or I'll never wake in time for my 4am dosage of fish oil. Goodnight!"

Walter pulled the covers back up, but Peter was still pacing the room. "I remember," Peter said to himself. "I blacked out. You hit me with that damn taser gun. But…you hit her first…so I went back…"

From the corner of the bed sheets, Walter watched his son awkwardly pace around, talking to himself about the memories that were slowly coming to light.

"My god, Peter." Walter said with great pity. "You're becoming madder than me."

At that moment, Peter stopped. What in the world was he doing? All this time he was trying to shake answers out of a man who could barely remember his own life…

He wasn't the one he needed to get his answers from.

Peter grabbed his coat and ran out. He didn't even think to take the Vista. He was going to run…all the way to the other side of town. And as he ran, more real memories were slowly passing through his consciousness and he took it all in…something he wouldn't have been able to focus on while driving anyway.

He was running through the streets like a preacher warning the world's end.

And finally, only after taking a minute or two to breathe, he finally arrived at her doorstep.

Peter banged on the door wildly without consideration of the fact that it was the middle of the night, and it would take some time for her to register the knock at the door and a little more time for her to answer it.

After a minute of pounding, the lights inside the apartment came on and Olivia opened the door. She half-leaned against it in her long white bathrobe and stared at Peter, exhausted and confused.

"Peter?" She tried to crack a smile. "You know normally, I'm the one who's supposed to be pounding on your door when we get a new case."

The look on Peter's face was indescribable…like a man who had just ran out of hell. Olivia was now very worried. "I know it's…" Peter looked at his watch. "…3:47 in the morning…but I need to ask you something very…look, just don't be weirded out okay. It's important."

Peter looked very serious so Olivia knew this had to be important. "Okay."

He hesitated a bit…confirmed the memory in his mind…and then… "Where were you on your eighth birthday?"

Olivia's eyes widened to saucers. "What?"

"Do you remember where you were living? Who you were with?"

Olivia didn't say anything.

"Liv, please," Peter pleaded desperately. "Just tell me exactly."

She shrugged. "I…think…I was at home."

"At home?" That was NOT the answer Peter was expecting. "Are you sure?"

"Um…yeah…Birthday Party with the family…and friends from school."

"The presents?" said Peter. "Was one of them a candy bar?"

Olivia was starting to get really disturbed by Peter. "Why would I get a candy bar for a birthday present? Why are you asking me this? Hey!"

Quite unexpected, Peter had grabbed her left arm and pushed the robe sleeve up. The scars. The scratches by Mr. Jones would've left two long lines on her. But it was too dark. Peter's vision was too blurry. Perhaps the scars would've faded away years ago.

Still his eyes desperately searched the length of her forearm as Olivia tried to pull away. "Peter! What are you doing?!"

He looked up at her and it seemed, in a matter of seconds, his face had gone red and sweaty with desperation. "It was you."

"What?"

"The girl I left behind. Her name was Olivia."

"Peter…" She tried to remain calm despite Peter's grip on her arm. "That could've been ANYONE named Olivia."

"But…but she looked just like you. She was tested on by Bell…by my father…they called her subject 'O'…"

"Peter…"

"And I was subject 'P'. I was in the cell next to you. Don't you remember?"

By now, Olivia had enough. "Okay. Peter…you really need to go home and get some sleep. You're not acting like yourself right now."

She tried to pull out of Peter's grip and retread back into her apartment. But Peter only grabbed on tighter and Olivia began to panic and struggle with him.

"I was the one who gave you that chocolate bar, Liv! We were living alone in that house for three whole months! My father and Bell…they were going to make you kill me like you killed that boy!"

"What?…Peter?"

"You have to remember me, Liv!!!"

"Peter…"

"COME ON!!!"

"STOP IT, PETER!!! YOU'RE SCARING ME!!!"

Finally, whether through her force or his surrender, Olivia's arm was freed. Olivia quickly took a few steps back into her apartment, her frightened eyes still focused on Peter…who stood there…just as scared.

"I…" Peter shielded his face from Olivia in shame. "I'm sorry…god, I'm so sorry." He quickly turned and started walking down the street. Despite Olivia calling out to him …he didn't turn back.

How could he have been so stupid?

How could he actually believe that that was the same Olivia? Didn't he stop to think that maybe it had always been the alter-verse one?

Even worse, why in the world would he ever want that girl to be Olivia? He couldn't believe that he wanted Olivia's past to consist of the same abuse and torture that he had experienced on the other side.

He couldn't have been more selfish.

It must've been the strange connection between them lately, when they held hands. Perhaps it was because Olivia had consumed his every thought from the moment they met in Iraq. That must've been it. Olivia had become too much a part of his whole, that he unwittingly named that girl in his memory "Olivia".

Because such a coincidence…like working with the girl whom you've escaped from a horror lab with 21 years ago…was just flat out laughable.

--------

He had completely lost it in the early hours of that morning, and now he was scared to face her. It was noon and she hadn't shown up at the lab. Typical.

"Son," Walter greeted Peter happily despite their feud hours prior. "I couldn't help but notice you unusual predicament."

"Since when?" asked Peter. "When I nearly punched that wall?"

"Well I think I know how to get the information you seek."

This got Peter's attention.

"I know I had a top secret box hidden in this very lab somewhere. It contained all the information regarding my um…visits…to the other side."

"Visits?"

"Oh fine…it was just that one visit. But! In order to ensure that you would never know about where you came from, I stored my accounts and findings from the trip inside a box and hid it somewhere…inside the walls, I believe. But now since…you do know, I don't have a reason to hide it anymore."

"Lemme guess. You don't know where in the walls you hid it or what the box even looks like."

"Oh, heavens no."

Peter went over to a closet near the entrance of the lab. There wasn't much to work with until he pulled out a pickaxe from the darkest corner. He wasn't going to bother why Walter even had a pickaxe in the lab to begin with. The important thing was…he had a means to get to work.

"Peter?" Astrid watched him as he began striking at the stone walls. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Walter hid something that could have some really important answers."

Astrid sighed. She should've known. "Isn't there an easier way to find it without tearing up the entire lab?"

"This is Walter we're talking about, Astrid."

"Well maybe you're not looking for a box," she said. "What if it's just a file buried somewhere?"

"Excellent idea," said Walter. "We can't leave anything unconsidered. Ascription, there are a few file cabinets in the back here that I haven't been able to open since the lab reopened. I believe the keys were accidentally consumed by a rabbit we were testing on back in '89."

Before Astrid could say anything, Peter grabbed the pickaxe and yanked the drawers opened. Files fell everywhere and the drawers just narrowly miss crushing a few feet.

Astrid was fuming over the mess she would now have to dig through. "Wonderful, Peter. Thanks."

With time, Peter eventually gained control of his senses and decided to examine the walls of the lab, leave no crack or hole behind, before he considered swinging the pickaxe again.

Astrid was on the floor bitterly reorganizing the ancient files. Walter was there to assist but he only wanted to take a trip down memory lane. "Oh, just as I thought," said Walter. "The material I placed in that Labrador was cobalt and iron…er…magnets."

"That sounds very sick and wrong, Walter." Astrid shoved a file in Walter's hands. "Here, I found more files on your fun experimentation with Cortexiphan. You might want to look at them."

Peter was alarmed when he heard it. "Cortexiphan? The same stuff you tested on Olivia?"

"Oh, is that so?" said Walter. "Then perhaps we should take a look."

Walter flipped through a few pages as Peter approached him. Suddenly, Walter's face went pale and he quickly shoved the file closed. "On second thought, I think we should look at that Labrador file again."

"Give me that file, Walter!" Peter demanded.

"I don't think you should look."

"Why?"

"It's very disturbing."

"Give me the damn file, Walter!" Peter successfully yanked it out of Walter's hand although he was quite close to tearing it.

"Please," said Walter. "Just don't let Agent Dunham see it."

Peter began turning his eyes to the files. "Why…" Peter stopped to look at it closer. There were disturbing black and white pictures. A small charred body in the corner of a room. Another picture had a small boy whose head was smashed open and blood was everywhere. There were death certificates of these children. Death reports.

"Walter…what is this?"

His father was shaking. "Those were…the accidents."

"The accidents?"

"They were I swear to you! Belly and I we didn't know how to hide them. If the government knew that several children were killed."

"You were trying to hide their deaths?!"

"We had to," said Walter.

"Same excuse every damn time, Walter."

"We've never intentionally harmed these children, Peter. Not me. Though I understand given your past, how you might have trouble believing that."

"You think?" Peter began to read through the death reports. There were five of them. When he read the last one, he had to do a double-take.

"Walter…" Peter pulled the sheet out. "You and Bell, you use to call Olivia 'Olive', right?"

"Hmm…memory's a bit of a blur."

The death report shaking in his hands, Peter slowly passed it over to Walter. "Look at this." On the death report, the subject name was staring at Walter with a sense of absolute dread.

SUBJECT NAME: Olive

"Exact same birthday, Walter. Jacksonville, Florida?"

"Whoa," said Astrid. "Is that supposed to be Olivia?"

"If this is right," said Peter. "Then 'Olive' died in a lab fire 25 years ago."


	14. PRESENT DAY V

_Upon his arrival, Walter went straight to his own home. A combination of outrage and heartbreak consumed him as he saw his alter-wife, moving out of the house that he loved so much. No Peter in sight._

_His son had been taken to the lab that his alter-self worked at. He was absolutely horrified to discover what the Westwood lab was really like._

_Walter had lost one young son to a sickness that he should've been able to cure. To have the alter suffering in this hellhole was just as devastating._

_The heartbreak continued when Walter found that Peter was no longer at the child-torture facility. He feared his death until he came upon a REWARD flyer with pictures of two children, one a familiar looking male._

_There was a God. Peter had escaped. _

_His son was still alive!_

_He hastily tore off half of the flyer with his son's face and began his quest. The boy he would risk everything to look for would not truly be his son, but his heart was blind to this fact. While he no longer had a Peter back in his own world…there was a Peter in this one who needed him._

_Walter knew that he didn't have much time here. But he wasn't going to let Peter down._

_He wasn't going to give up until he found his son and brought him home._

--------

Olivia shoved the photos and files aside. "Walter, tell your son that he's crazy."

"Son…"

"I heard her, Walter!" Peter brought the papers back right under Olivia's nose. "This is supposed to be you, Olivia. You know that."

"I don't know what to believe anymore. First I'm told that I was experimented on as a child and now these papers are telling me I was supposedly killed in a lab accident when I was only 4. But here I am, with no memory of any of it."

"Because you weren't from here, Olivia. You came from the alter-reality with me."

"Oh just stop it, Peter! Do you realize who you're starting to sound like?!"

Peter cocked his head slightly in the direction of his father.

"Peter, are you sure that girl's name was Olivia?"

"Well," Peter shook his head. "She thought it might be her name." He tried to find some sign of acknowledgement from Olivia but she didn't flinch. "So that's what I called her."

The anger and frustration was ready to boil over. All of this information that was being thrown at her, along with Peter's unusual behavior, was becoming too much for Olivia. "You don't have any real proof that _I _could be that same girl, Peter."

"Walter is still looking for the box and Astrid sent the request to access your DNA records."

"What?! Why?!"

"There might be something in the box that has my DNA…and maybe yours too."

"Walter can't remember anything from going over there, or if he even brought anyone else back other than you. I still think you're losing it, Peter."

"I'm not losing it, Liv. The memories are just starting to come back to me and I know that they're real…"

"And that's another thing…" said Olivia. "Suppose I am this 'Olivia' you knew from over there. Why are you starting to remember everything about it now when I can't recall one single thing?!"

They both turned to Walter who was nervously standing there in radius of the intense argument. "I…," said Walter. "Maybe the box…"

"Oh enough with the box!" Olivia snapped. "I don't want to hear anymore of this!" And she stormed out of the lab.

--------

_He knew that employees from Westwood were still being sent out during the day to various areas to search of the escapees. Walter followed their tracks and gathered whatever information he could in secret. If there was any trace of Peter, then Walter would have to make his move quickly to get to Peter before THEY did._

_He would talk to strangers of all kinds…many of whom would look at him awkwardly._

_And finally the miracle happened. _

_While sitting in an ice cream parlor, Walter had converse with a cute little black girl (her name long forgotten). He showed her a picture of Peter from his wallet and asked her if she ever knew the boy._

_The little girl didn't trust the man and wasn't willing to talk. But then Walter bought her ice cream and she finally spilled the beans._

_By the time she finished explaining the two days she hid the boy and girl in her parents' attic and of their plan to reach a junkyard in the city, Walter was brimming with tears. He grabbed the girl in a tight hug. "Oh…thank you! Thank you! Thank you!"_

_He quickly rushed out of the parlor, praying that he was getting closer and closer to rescuing his boy._

--------

She couldn't believe that she was doing this. It made her sick to her stomach to even think about it.

But she caught a small detail in those death records that none of the Bishop boys did. That the bodies of the five children killed in the Cortexiphan trials were sent to Massive Dynamic.

Nina was very hesitant when Olivia asked to see the bodies. "I must be honest with you, Agent Dunham. William insisted that you personally not be allowed to ever see the bodies. I promise you that he never explained to me why. Though, I don't think they would be of much help to you anyway since the bodies are charred and mutilated beyond recognition."

"Well could I at least have their DNA records?"

Nina was also very nervous about this too, but she was sure that William Bell never mentioned anything about forbidding access to DNA records. After all, it was the only information on the bodies that she had in her possession. She knew nothing of the identities of the poor children…only that she had to store their corpses in her headquarters.

While Nina was unsure that what she did was a good idea, Olivia was relieved to have the envelope in her hands.

Now she would go back to Boston, and prove how wrong Peter was.

He had to be wrong. If none of the files match the DNA that Walter and Peter were soon to find, then she was safe.

Because just one match…any match…would certainly kill her.

--------

_The trail ran cold at the junkyard, but Walter's persistence…the very thought of holding his son again…kept him going. So he stayed in this nightmare world, wandering through the towns, looking anywhere and everywhere. _

_Many weeks later, Walter was traveling the countryside where scattered houses were left abandoned and bodies were strewn everywhere._

_He peaked through the window of one tiny boarded up cottage. It had to have been long abandoned. The walls were all moldy and the rooms within were nothing more than squalor of filth._

_Suddenly, he heard a noise coming from within the house, possibly the second floor. Walter quickly dashed away from the house and hid in the nearby fields._

_He waited for the occupants of the cottage to come out. The first to come crawling out of the large crack in the boarded door…was a small and very skinny girl with long sloppy blonde hair. The second was a boy, a weak, skinny boy._

_His Peter._

_Walter had been frozen by the shock of it all. Two years he had been toiling, in grief and stress, to find a way to get his son back. Now Walter was watching in silent disbelief his son breathing and being alive._

_But the joy was rather short-lived. He watched as Peter and the unknown child struggled with a rusty water pump. They had to wash their faces with what little water they could get. Then, they dumped two small rags into the trough and each child took one to scrub the skin under their worn clothing with. _

_Walter wanted to turn away when Peter lifted up his own shirt to wash himself. He couldn't believe those were burn marks on his boy's skin. His ribs were also sticking out. Both of the children, Walter realized, were suffering from first-degree malnutrition. They wouldn't survive very long here._

_After they finished their mediocre baths, the children went out to the fields, but luckily Walter was still hidden far away from their view. They spent long hours of the day bending down to dig and scavenge for whatever substance they could find._

_It was the saddest sight Walter had ever seen._

_Instead of playing and frolicking, these two weak little beings were struggling to survive without any means. There was no one to take care of them and all this time, poor little Peter had to fend for himself. _

_Walter couldn't hear the brief words that were being exchanged in the fields. Peter was pointing to something and the other child followed him. From the ground, Peter picked up a slightly rotten apple. He took the old steak knife he found in the kitchen and cut the apple into two poorly-evened halves. The bigger half he gave to the girl and the two ate in silence. _

_Walter missed the naïve curious little boy who had always starved for his attention (although Walter deep down felt that his Peter was a bit immature). The Peter he saw just feet away looked more like a man, a small very bony man…by the way he worked really hard to take care of himself, the way he looked after the little girl like a protective older sibling. Walter had never been so proud of him._

_The urge to run up to Peter and hold him in his arms again got bigger and bigger, but Walter knew that it would be a terrible idea in this circumstance. He didn't want to scare his little boy given all he must've gone through. Bringing him home and the healing process that would come afterward would be a gradual but difficult process._

_Tonight must be the night. The girl would make Walter's plan difficult as she seemed really attached to Peter, often refusing to leave his side. _

_But Walter had chloroform and various other items he could use. He could sneak into the house in the middle of the night while the children slept and take Peter without any problems or resistance. _

_He couldn't wait for the night to come._

--------

When Olivia returned to the lab, she couldn't believe what she saw. There were holes in the walls, dust in the air, and stone and debris littering the lab floor.

Peter and Walter were in one corner of the room getting real frustrated with each other.

"I tried to stop them!" Astrid said to Olivia. "But Walter said he remembered what spot in the walls he hid the box in and before you know it, one spot turned into seven!"

"Damn it," Peter muttered as he saw Olivia. "Should I stop?"

Olivia gave him a cold stare. "You might as well finish tearing out that wall."

Walter gave his son a pat on the back. "I'm certain it's this wall, Peter." As frustrated as Peter was with his father, Peter was the one who started this whole mess after all.

A few more strikes into the wall and then Peter began to notice it.

He pulled out a large black box.

Olivia wanted nothing more to do with any of this. No one had yet to question the envelope in her hand. She wasn't sure why she was even here. Was it really worth all this trouble to prove just how crazy Peter had become? Was it really worth all this fighting with him?

It didn't seem to matter now that she was already here. She didn't want to know and yet, at the same time, she had an obligation to stay and finally learn the truth.

So the four of them gathered around the table as Walter opened the large box. The first thing he pulled out was an unusual head device.

Astrid asked "Any idea what that is, Walter?"

"Of course not," he said. "But I'm sure I invented it." He put the estranged device aside.

The box was apparently two-layered. Tension was high in the lab, and everyone stayed silent. Beneath the top layer that Walter was about to remove would be various items that would finally have the answers that Peter was looking for…

…while Olivia was silently praying that no such answers would come.

Walter removed the top layer…

…and Peter looked in…

_**______________________________________**_

**YOU'VE BEEN CLIFFHANGER'D XD!!!! **

**Now comes the part where you review and tell me what you're hoping for.**

**But lemme just say about my last update: HOLY MOLY! SIX REVIEWS IN ONE DAY! YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME! KEEP IT UP!**

**Your reward: an update on Thursday, aight?!**


	15. PRESENT DAY VI

_**Yes, I know it's two days past when I originally said I would update. Which is why I'm never gonna predict when my last update will be ever again. All I can say is that it's been a mentally messed up week for me. But knowing that we're in a three week Fringe hiatus, I'll contribute what I can to get us through it.**_

**THIS CHAPTER IS DEDICATED TO LOLITA TIDES.**

**Reason:**** Five Words: Free fic advertising! Cool beans!**

___________________________________________

The first thing Peter took out of the box was a piece of paper yellowed with age…his childhood face staring back at him. "My god," he said. "I knew that they were looking for us, but I just can't believe they saw us as fugitives."

Olivia didn't respond.

There were two manila folders that Peter took out of the box next. It got even more haunting as he held one of the folders in his hand. Paper-clipped to the outside was a black and white photograph, a bit creased and crinkled from overuse. But it was clear what he was looking at.

In the photograph was nine-year-old Peter. He was lying almost naked in what looked like a hospital bed, hooked up to an IV pole. He looked almost like a skeleton, just lying there with various scars and marks plaguing his skin.

He pulled out the photograph and flipped it over. The writing was ancient but clearly Walter's.

'_CONFIRMED: Peter Bishop'_.

Peter opened the folder and saw his DNA chart inside. He knew his DNA print by memory. It was exactly the same, exactly his.

"What's that in your hand?" Astrid pointed to the envelope Olivia held.

She quickly responded, "It's not important."

"It's the charts of the dead children isn't it?" asked Walter. "The ones who died in the accidents."

"Yeah, so?"

"Astrid," Peter called out. "Go get Dunham's DNA chart. See if it matches any of those." Astrid reached a hand out so that Olivia could give her the folder. Olivia gave Peter a cold look before finally surrendering. She followed Astrid back to one of the lab tables…getting as far away as she could from the black box.

Peter picked up the other folder. It was similar to the first one. A DNA chart inside, a similar photograph attached.

Except the figure in the photograph looked different. It was a bit faded, but Peter could see this child had much longer hair, looked skinnier and paler too.

"Walter," Peter smiled. "I knew it! You did bring someone else back with you!"

He took a deep breath as he took the photograph and flipped it over.

'_CONFIRMED: Olivia Dunham'_.

Peter ran over to the lab table. Astrid and Olivia looked down at two DNA charts that were placed together side-by-side bearing the exact same DNA printing.

One of them was Olivia's

Peter added the one from the folder. All three were exactly the same.

After glancing her eyes at all three charts, Olivia turned away. "This can't be right."

"Liv, that copy has been buried in the lab for about 20 years."

"It can't be right. There's got to be another explanation."

Peter showed Olivia the photographs of the children in the beds. "I don't think you can explain these."

Olivia shook as she looked at the photos. Absolute horror was the only way to describe the look on her face. Those photos had been taken in this very lab. Worse yet, Olivia could immediately recognize the child with the long blonde hair before she saw her name written on the back. She knew how to recognize her younger self in photographs.

Her eyes glanced back at the black box. There were two more objects left that had almost been forgotten. She picked them up and fiddled with them in her hands. Colored metal bands: one blue and one pink. From the way they were cut, these bands use to be bracelets…small enough to fit around a child's leg.

Peter instantly recognized the ankle bracelets, the ones that allowed those lab bastards to hurt them and do their bidding. Olivia was staring intensely at the blue one that had a 'P' etched in.

She then saw the 'O' etched into the pink bracelet.

"Why…?" There was no longer denying who the little girl was that the pink bracelet belonged to.

"Liv." Before Peter could reach out to her, Olivia screamed the one question that would haunt her relentlessly.

"WHY CAN'T I REMEMBER?!!!"

Olivia collapsed in tears of absolute frustration. Once more, her life had become a big lie. Her childhood was not hers to recall or know. It wasn't fair. Everyday she was learning something new about herself that she never knew before. It just wasn't fair.

Peter immediately went to her side, shedding his own tears, sharing her pain and sympathy, but deep down he was also crying tears of silent joy. His Olivia had been here all this time. She had survived. And despite not recalling the little girl he had escaped with until days ago, he really did felt the emptiness and the suffering of their long separation.

And now here they were, finally reunited after 21 years.

"Peter…"

Walter tried to approach both of them but Peter turned to him pleading, "Back off! Just back the hell off, alright?!"

Olivia was in no condition to remain on the floor bawling her eyes out, with Astrid and Walter looking on. She was in no condition to do anything right now. Peter decided then and there that he had to get her out of here.

He helped her up best he could and walked with her out of the lab.

--------

It took a while for her mind to register that Peter was in her apartment…that he managed to drive her over here. She had been lying in her bed on the far side facing the wall ever since they got here. In her hand were the two ankle bracelets that she continued to fumble with…never letting go.

Peter had been with her the whole time, making her comfortable, but also letting her have her space. He thought about calling in sick for Olivia, but decided to wait and see how things go. He got her a glass of water and then hesitantly, he sat on the free side of the bed looking over her as she dozed in and out of sleep, as one in her messed-up state would do.

He sighed with frustration and relief.

"Peter? You awake?"

He was surprised to Olivia's mumbled voice. "Yeah. Don't get up. What do you need?"

"I don't need anything," she said, still staring at the wall. "I was just wondering if you could…tell me what you remember…about being over there."

"Think you might remember something?"

"No," she sighed. "I know I won't remember anything. I just need to know…"

"It's not pleasant, Liv. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

"Yes. Please…tell me everything."

Peter wasn't sure where to begin. It was hard. How do you tell a person who doesn't remember that their childhood was a living nightmare? He started by telling her how he came to be there and knowing that Liv would not allow any sugarcoating, Peter would have no choice but to describe Westwood in its true horrific detail.

He could sense Olivia shuddering in response to every detail. It got worse when he had to tell her how his 'father' would torture him and would try to fry his insides with wires.

"I can stop if you want me to."

"It's okay," she said. "Go on."

He made a light-hearted notion about the first time he spoke to her, how difficult she had been, and that the only way he could get through to her was by offering her a piece of candy. Hard as it was, Peter went on describing the details of their miraculous escape…how they fled into a nearby neighborhood until they were captured once more.

Olivia was surprised to learn it was, in fact, alter-Jones that abducted them.

To Peter, the basement was just as horrifying as the lab if not more. He didn't tell Olivia about the boy she claimed to have killed. He realized what a mistake it was when he had to tell Olivia about Jones and Mitchell's heads exploding, allowing them to escape.

"How did they die Peter?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "You…you killed them. You did something…I don't know."

"It was the Cortexiphan, wasn't it?" she asked sadly. Somehow, she knew her freakish abilities played a role in all of this.

"Yeah, I think so," he said. "Well after that, we got away again. Hid in this abandoned house for a few months, and then Walter shows up to ruin our fun. You blacked out. I blacked out. And that was that. That was the last I can recall about that place."

Olivia was silent.

There was a sudden knocking at the door. "Don't move," said Peter. "I'll tell them to go away."

The knocking got really annoying as Peter went to open to door. He was surprised to see the man on the other side.

"Walter?"

"Oh, Peter. Thank goodness. I was afraid this would be the wrong address. I've been knocking on doors up and down the block."

"How did you…well I guess the more important question now is what are you doing here?"

"You ran off so quickly, I just wanted to explain."

"Explain? Look I don't think now's a good time. You're lucky Olivia didn't pull a gun on you back at the lab. Goodnight…"

"I know why Agent Dunham doesn't remember!"

This got Peter's undivided attention.

In Walter's hands was the strange looking head device that he first pulled out of the black box earlier that day. "This device. It's an old prototype. It no longer works, but it fulfilled its purpose. It was through this device that I was able to look into the memories…yours and Agent Dunham's…and then I was able to replace those memories with more comforting ones."

"A memory manipulator," said Peter. "That would explain all the lies you put in my head."

"It was not easy for me to look into your consciousness and see for myself everything you went through. But I had to…I had to know."

"Walter…"

"I didn't want you to live forever with the memories of that awful place, Peter. I wanted nothing more than to replace all of it with a more innocent childhood, one that would ease your transition so you would be more comfortable in this reality…and with me."

"That still doesn't explain why I'm remembering and Olivia…"

"As I said before Peter, it wasn't easy. I had to look into her memories too…for data purposes. You know, it was quite a risky move on my part bringing her here and Bellie wasn't quite happy with it, especially since I told him I was only traveling over there to get you. He yelled at me about it for an entire week after I came back. But she was quite attached to you, you know? And I can only assume you were very attached to her…?"

Peter silently nodded with a smile.

"Ah yes. The memory manipulator was very weak at the time. There was only enough power to alter a certain amount of memory. My full intention was to erase everything so YOU would forget those horrible months, Peter. But seeing that you got your memory back, it's quite obvious that I didn't use enough on you. I wanted to use all of it on you. But after I looked into her memories… You were more fortunate than she was. You were only there a few months compared to her four years. I saw more horrifying things in her memory, Peter…and I found myself making a very difficult choice. I loved you so much that I almost wasn't going to give it a second thought. But I did. She needed the memory alterations more. At least you would've had me to help you, to comfort you when those memories should return. But I knew Agent Dunham would need a little more help assimilating back into normal society. So I gave her as much as she needed and use what little was leftover on you. And THAT is why she will likely NEVER remember anything of…life over there."

For the longest time, Peter just stood there in absolute silence. He found himself smiling at his father. "Wow, Walter. I'm actually quite impressed. I didn't think you were even capable of thinking of someone other than yourself…or me."

"Oh," Walter said feeling a bit better. "Thank you, Peter."

"Think you can get home okay?"

"Well, I took the bus down the street. Comes every 20 minutes, so I should…"

"It's okay, Walter. She…we just need some time to take this all in, alright?"

Walter nodded. He went down the steps and gave his son a wave goodbye before walking down the street.

After Walter left, Peter went into the kitchen and made some soup. Olivia was still lying in bed when he left the bowl by her bedside.

"Peter?"

"Hmm?"

"I've been thinking."

Thinking was never a good sign to Peter but he decided to give Olivia his attention anyway. "Yeah?"

"Do you think that over there…Do you think that lab still exists?"

"It's not something I ever considered thinking about, I mean, whether or not my 'real dad' is still alive."

"Do you think they're still experimenting on children over there?"

Peter sighed. "I don't know. Possibly."

"We were probably the only ones to ever escape. I don't know if I can live with that."

"What are you suggesting?"

Olivia finally turned herself over to look at Peter. "We came from over there, Peter. Maybe we could travel back."

"Travel back? Liv, did you not hear ANY of my story? You really want to go back?"

"We know what they're capable of and what they do, Peter. I'm thinking maybe…we could put an end to it. We can stop them from hurting anymore children."

"You mean," said Peter. "You want to go over there and destroy the lab?"

"If that's what it will take."

"But you don't remember everything."

Olivia held Peter's hand. "But YOU do. Are you with me on this?"

Inside of Peter was every ambition in his body screaming _'no!' 'no!' 'no!'_ There was absolutely every reason in his memory NOT to go back. But that didn't stop Olivia even after telling her what an awful place it was. This meant a great deal to her. If she wanted to do something about it, well then…

"Liv," Peter smiled. "I know you'll probably find a way to go back, with or without me. So I guess I don't have any choice."


	16. PRESENT DAY VII

_**There's a lot packed into this chapter. Bear with me, guys… ;)**_

_**___________________________________________________________**_

The next few weeks had been spent in deep planning and preparation. Olivia was running the whole operation making certain requests and planning out how to two individuals were going to take down an entire lab facility and possibly save a few lives.

It had all the makings of a suicide mission.

And yet the one man who would often discourage her from embarking on such life-risking missions said nothing. For a while, Peter couldn't comprehend why he would agree to be Olivia's equal and not make one word of protest about the whole thing.

The only conclusion he could come up with was the psychological concept of "facing your demons". Deep down, he and Olivia both felt that they needed to do this...that they needed to go back to that hellhole Walter rescued them from all those years ago and finally bring closure to that dark chapter in their lives.

Still having no memories of over there, Olivia appointed Peter and Walter to use their memories of the Westwood in order to map out its location. She even contacted Nina Sharp to see if she could contact William Bell about borrowing some tools that would allow her and Peter to travel to the other side.

To everyone's surprise, it only took a couple of weeks into planning for Bell to send his blessing and the device for alter-reality travel to the lab.

In the final days of planning, Walter remained shaken and oddly nervous. Peter didn't like how Walter seemed to be intentionally messing around with the device.

"What's with you, Walter?" Peter said. "You've been jumpy ever since we got this thing."

"I'm not jumpy. I'm just a bit agitated. I don't trust that this works like it should."

When Peter saw what Walter was doing with a pair of scissors in hand, Peter slapped Walter's arm away. "Hey! You're trying to destroy the machine!"

"What?"

"Don't lie to me, Walter. Bell said it would work perfectly fine. Are you trying to stop Liv and me from going?"

Walter gave his son a very guilty look. "Son, I fear that terrible things will happen if you and Agent Dunham go on this trip. I urge you to try and reconsider."

Peter placed a hand on Walter's shoulder to stop him from shaking. "Walter…look at where we work."

"Oh. Yes it is a fine lab. Nice cow over there."

"I mean, look at what we do. Terrible things happen all the time. It's not something that can be help, especially with you involved. Don't worry about Liv and me. We're gonna be fine."

Olivia came into the lab. She was carrying a shoebox and handed it to Peter. "I got you something. For the trip."

She smiled as she watched Peter curiously open the box.

"Aw. Liv, you shouldn't have." Peter's face turned red as he pulled out the shiny black gun from the box.

"You know I'm only renting that out to you. I figure that Broyles wouldn't mind you carrying a weapon since he won't be able to order us around over there."

Walter watched as Peter and Olivia gave each other a friendly hug. The bad feeling…the dread for his son's life was still heavy within.

He could only hope that Peter was right.

--------

The portal to the other side opened like a fine curtain. Walter, Astrid, Peter, and Olivia all looked at it with awe.

"You should be about 5 miles from the facility," said Walter. "This device will only have enough power to keep the portal open for only a few minutes."

"It's alright," said Olivia. "You can close the portal once we're over there. Then wait two hours to reopen it again."

"Is two hours going to be enough?" asked Peter.

"I don't know."

Tears were brimming in Walter's eyes as he hugged both Peter and Olivia very tightly. Peter was a bit annoyed as he and Olivia both were carrying lots of dangerous guns and ammunition on their persons. "For the last time, Walter. We're gonna be fine."

"Oh," Walter said sadly. "Yes…yes you will be fine." He then went over to Astrid's side.

Peter turned to Olivia. "You ready, Liv?"

She took a deep breath. "Lead the way."

Peter made the first step in and Olivia followed.

The portal closed and now Peter and Olivia stood in a dark woodland area. Despite the weight of all their weaponry, Peter and Olivia went down the hill and found a country road not too far away. Peter knew this road. It was the road his mom drove on to take Peter to and from that place…

…until he was left there permanently.

Eventually, they saw the compound in the distance, standing there in the middle of the lifeless gray countryside like a haunted prison.

Peter sighed. "Just as I remembered it."

They were able to get really close to the main entrance without being seen. They waited until a van passed through the entrance and snuck in unseen. Peter warned Olivia in advance about the guard dogs. She was able to take them out quickly with a tranquilizer gun.

Soon Peter and Olivia found themselves sneaking from building to building in the compound with ease.

There weren't many guards about. It made Peter feel very uneasy.

"It's nighttime, right?"

"Yeah," said Olivia. "11 at night. Why? What's wrong?"

Peter kept looking around. "It's too quiet…"

They went into one large building was dark and empty. The walls were peeling away and there was debris everywhere. "It can't be abandoned if there's still people guarding it."

"I know," said Peter. "It's just…it's usually at night when they would experiment on the kids. You could hear them screaming. You could see lights coming through the windows…"

Although she was unable to relate, Olivia still felt chills down her spine at the thought. "Maybe…," she said. "Maybe, they stopped experimenting on them."

Together Peter and Olivia placed a bomb in that room, setting the timer to a little over an hour. They then went into another room as dark and desolate as all the others and kept bumping into something. They adjusted their eyes to see with no doubt dead bodies, covered by sheets on tables.

Olivia cautiously lifted the sheet off one of the bodies. A quick gasp and she turned away. Peter held her to prevent her from collapsing, but she was still shaking, almost close to vomiting…

…the image of the charred girl still imprinted in her mind.

Peter led Olivia quickly out of that building and they quietly found themselves near the back of the compound. There wasn't a guard in sight. A short but really long building stood alone. It looked like a really long chicken coop.

Peter immediately knew what this building was.

"That's the place," said Peter. "That's where they held us."

Olivia was still shaking. "Maybe you should go in there…I'll go back to the main building and set the bomb."

"I know where to set the bomb," said Peter. "Besides, I think the kids will be less freaked out by seeing a woman."

Olivia didn't want to go in. She was concerned that she would only find more dead children. But Peter was already heading back and Olivia needed to get indoors before a guard spotted her.

She went in and sure enough the place seemed very abandoned. Surely if there were still children in the holding cells, then someone must've been keeping an eye on them…

…or maybe they had been left to starve.

Olivia found herself in the small entry room. She struggled to find the breaker and turned on the lights but only a few bulbs struggled to stay lit.

She then went through another door and entered the incredibly long hall. It was the darkest most eerie sight she swore she ever saw.

Looking to her left, she saw the first of many small steel doors. She shuddered looking at the letter "A" marked on there in a fading colorful font that would've appealed to a child.

She was able to prop the door open with ease but had to crouch low to step in. She was greeted only with darkness and a strange dripping noise. She took out her flashlight. The dripping was just a leaky water pipe.

Olivia lost her breath when she saw a small figure lying on the mattress.

She cautiously placed a hand over what felt like wooly pajamas and turned it over. She was looking down at a small dark-haired child, who looked no older than two. Olivia seemed so distraught she almost didn't see the child's eyes suddenly open.

Olivia jumped back waving the flashlight around. All over the wall, she could see one word being written all over in child's writing. She could barely make it out.

_Adrian._

She looked back at the child. He was practically lifeless except he was still breathing and his eyes were attentive to the woman who had entered his cell.

"Adrian?"

The boy blinked in response to his name.

Olivia finally gave a relieving smile. "Hi," she whispered. "My name's Olivia. I've come to get you out of here, okay?"

She picked up the child and brought him back out into the long hallway. There were still 25 more doors to check but she didn't want to leave Adrian alone. So she put some of her guns aside, and carried the child in one arm while opening the next door.

The light in cell 'B' was flashing on and off revealing the rotting corpse in the corner. Olivia quickly turned Adrian's eyes away.

This was going to be difficult. Olivia quickly got out some gauze and wrapped it around the child's eyes.

It was better this way while she continued to check the cells.

One door after another…it was one of two fears: empty or with a dead child. It was starting to get to Olivia really badly. She wanted to scream out in frustration.

She got to cell 'J'.

"Oh, thank god!"

Finally, she found a second survivor…another boy. She left Adrian in his arms while she went on, feeling a little more hopeful to find others.

Cells 'L' and 'M' also had survivors who could barely make it out of their cells on their own.

She found herself hesitating when she got to cell 'O'. Still no triggers have gone off as she went in. How could she have no memory of the small steel box she was forced to call home for four years?

The light was flickering in this room as well. She found an occupant on the mattress. The boy had been long dead, from the looks of the purple spots on his pale skin, they must've done some sort of biological experiment to him. Under the child's toilet she saw a hole in the wall near the floor.

She quickly left the cell, no longer giving a sh*t to recall anything.

Olivia never thought about the strange coincidence that her initial was next to Peter's in the alphabet…until she finally stepped into his old cell.

Inside, a frightened redheaded girl was curled up in the back corner of her mattress. She failed to recognize the woman who had entered her cell at first.

"Hey," said Olivia. "What's your name?"

The girl looked up incredibly shocked. "I'm…Patty. Who are you?"

"My name's Olivia."

"Are you a guard?"

Olivia realized she still was armed with some of her guns. "No," she smiled. "I was a prisoner here many years ago. I came back to help you."

Patty's eyes widened with realization. "Olivia? That starts with an 'O'?"

"Yes," she said. "I lived in the cell next door. I escaped years ago with a boy who once lived in this cell."

Patty's mood changed to sudden joy as she leapt off the mattress. "Oscar was right! He was right about everything!"

"Oscar?"

"The hole!" Patty pointed to the hole that was created between cells 'O' and 'P'. It was here when I came here and that's how I got to talk to him. He said kids escaped from here before but I didn't believe him. But he was right! He said they would come back for us and now you're here!"

The girl happily went over to the hole. "Hey! Oscar! Someone came to save us!"

There was only silence.

"…Oscar?!"

Olivia tearfully went over to Patty and gently tugged her. "Oscar didn't make it, sweetie."

She stayed with Patty in the cell for a little longer while they silently mourned for her friend.

The children huddled together in the entry room while Olivia rescued two more from cells 'U' and 'V'. Olivia put her armor back on when the door to the building suddenly opened. The children began to cry out in fear of the strange man that had entered.

"No, it's okay!" Olivia said trying to calm them. "It's okay, Peter's here to help!"

Peter looked at the poor children a bit confused. "Where are the others?"

Olivia looked at Peter shaking her head sadly.

"My god," said Peter. These seven children were it.

The timers had been set. They only had a small amount of time before they went off. Peter had taken out a man and took his driver's uniform. He brought a van around and Olivia was able to quietly get the children into the back where they wouldn't be seen. Olivia sat with the children while Peter drove the van to the main entrance. He got suspicious looks from the guards as he claimed to be shipping out some supplies. After an intense few minutes, the guards finally let him pass though they were still suspicious.

Finally getting away from the compound, Peter drove a little ways down the road and then pulled the van over to the side. He and Olivia helped the children out of the van and led them into the woods. The portal was set to appear before them real soon.

They heard loud booms and all heads looked back. The bombs were going off. A few of the kids cried out in shock.

But then something else caught their eyes. Several trucks with armed men were speeding down the road and where stopping where they left the van.

"Sh*t!" said Peter. "They followed us!"

Olivia pushed the children further into the woods. "RUN!!!"

The frightened boys and girls began moving as quick as they could. Olivia gave Adrian to Peter as he was the only one incapable of running. She then pulled out her machine gun. "Get them to the portal."

Peter stood there, immediately frantic. "Liv…"

"I SAID GET THEM TO THE PORTAL! I GOT THIS!"

Peter saw that the children had stopped running and froze when a strange gray screen appeared before them. On the other side, Walter and Astrid were staring back at them.

Peter took Adrian and quickly got to the children. "It's okay," Peter said getting them together. "It's okay. Just go through the screen."

Astrid motioned the kids to come forward assuring them it would be okay.

Peter pushed the first child forward, and Astrid was able to grab them and pulled them in.

As each child was cautiously crossing over, Olivia remained occupied with throwing grenades and firing at the oncoming attackers from behind the trees.

The portal screen was starting to slowly shake and shrink.

"PETER!" Walter cried out in a noise like static. "The portal wont hold much longer!"

Peter was hesitating until he quickly realized that Adrian was still in his arms. He tossed him through the portal and Astrid caught him. All seven children had made it to the other side.

But Peter was still waiting on Olivia. He looked back and saw that she was still fighting with the attackers. There wasn't enough time to get to her…or was there? He didn't know…

"PETER!!!"

"PETER, COME ON!!!"

Walter and Astrid's cries fell deaf on his ears. Peter's heart finally felt relief when Olivia began to run towards his direction. She was only 50 yards away.

But the advancing men were closing in. One second, Olivia was running toward him…

…the next she was falling to the ground.

It was for certain now. The portal was going to close and Olivia wasn't going to make it.

"FOR GOD SAKES, PETER!!!! LISTEN TO YOUR FATHER!!!!"

Peter turned back to see the gray screen shrinking faster before his eyes. He looked at Walter. Without words, they both knew the choice that Peter was about to make.

"I'm sorry…dad." There was heartbreak in Peter's voice as he stepped back. "Goodbye."

Peter's face had completely dissolved and the gray screen disappeared before Walter's eyes.

"**NO!!!!!!!!!!"**

Walter started banging the machine, trying to get it to start again, but it was dead…all used up…no more.

Astrid tried to pull him away but Walter fought her helplessly. The children looked at the two adults in fear and confusion as Walter started screaming up to the skies.

"**PETER!!!!!!!!!!"**

His hysterical cries could be heard for miles.


	17. PRESENT DAY IIX

_**Damn! I've been working on this chapter everyday since the last update. It's long and intense so I hope you have a good stomach for it.**_

_**This fic is almost over btw (more details in next update) but a sequel will probably result.**_

_**____________________________________________________________**_

There was a quick sudden blow to Peter's head. He was now completely disoriented and being dragged back down the road. There, a group of armed men had surrounded Olivia, who was on her knees and barely able to keep her head up.

They pushed Peter down and tied his hands in a similar fashion right next to her.

"Hey."

Peter gave Olivia a little nudge by putting his head under her chin, but it didn't do much good. A bullet had grazed the side of her neck making it difficult for her to move without feeling pain.

But she knew he was there.

"The children…," she whispered. "Did they make it through?"

"Yeah."

"All of them?"

Peter felt a blow to the back of his shoulder making in wince in pain.

"No talking!"

The man came around and confronted Peter and Olivia with a cold stare. "…unless one of you wants to tell us who the hell you think you are."

Peter and Olivia remained silent.

"Have them checked."

One of the gunmen pushed Peter's head forward. Suddenly Peter felt a cold metal piercing into the back of his neck. The needles were part of an unusual device that looked more like a radar gun. A row of lights began to slowly appear, one after another.

Green…green…green…red.

The metal was finally out of Peter's neck but the pain still remained.

Now it was Olivia's turn.

Green…green…green…

…loud beeping flashing green.

Everyone, including Peter, turned to Olivia in shock.

"She's one of them. She has Cortexiphan."

Olivia and Peter were brought back up on their feet. The leader was on the radio with someone informing him of the captives and that one of them was something called a "killer subject".

Peter remembered…that's what they once called children like Olivia.

The leader pointed to Olivia. "Take this one to CRONUS," he ordered his men. He then looked at Peter. "This one you can lock up."

--------

He must've blacked out.

Peter found himself awake in the outdoors of all places. His foot was tied up to an old tethered rope. He was surrounded by rubble and abandoned buildings. The tether was connected to a makeshift wall. To the left and right of him, just a 10 feet each way Peter could see skeletons of people who had been sentenced to this cruel fate as well.

It finally occurred to Peter what was so familiar about this place.

If Peter didn't get out before the green clouds formed over him again, he would surely die.

In a junkyard full of debris, Peter was bound to find something in his reach that would allow him to escape. The best he eventually found was something that must've been an old glass beer bottle. He stretched his non-tethered foot out to scoop the bottle up and bring it close to him. It was painful but he managed.

Once the bottle was in his hand, Peter struck it against the wall. It took him several hard tries. Finally, the neck of the bottle exploded and glass nearly got in his eyes. Peter screamed as the flying glass gave his face a good scratching.

Only a few of the glass pieces were sharp enough for this task. Still, he went to work…all the while, he kept the word "Cronus" imprinted in his mind. It was his only clue he would have to finding Olivia.

The tether was weak with age. That worked well in Peter's favor as he took the glass piece to the weakest spot. Halfway through, he saw a spot of green forming in the night sky.

He worked harder and faster.

As close as he was, he could feel the nausea and the vomit in his throat, while the green spot in the sky got bigger. The moment the tether came free, Peter vomited.

The last time he was in a 'sick place', he was too weak to avoid being captured. Now that he was an adult, there was no excuse in not trying to get away. He found a weak spot in the makeshift wall, made of aged wood, and threw his whole self against it until he could make his way out. He couldn't let the sickness win this fight.

His feet kept moving until he finally collapsed. He laid there for a very long time feeling a bit numb. Was this what dying was like?

It took him an hour lying there to realize that he was no longer feeling sick. It was just the vomit that he was still feeling in his mouth.

His head felt fuzzy as he looked up and saw the green cloud remained in its usual spot over the sick place. Peter somehow managed to get away. Now all he had to do was talk towards the city and just maybe the taste of vomit and the headaches would finally be cleansed away.

--------

The streets were quiet and empty. The whole city looked like a giant movie set from a campy 1930s sci-fi. Unusual futuristic-looking skyscrapers lined the streets, which Peter treaded with extreme caution.

It still unnerved him to see no one around in this twisted reality. As he got closer to the tall buildings he realized that many of them were boarded up and had been long abandoned.

Down the main street only one skyscraper remained lit, the tallest one around. At the entrance stood a very long fountain, with a large marble statue of what looked like a Greek god at its center.

Cronus was one of the most powerful of Greek Titans. This had to be place.

It was going to be a difficult task to find Olivia in a place this complex and massive. Peter decided to sneak in around the side of the building in case there were any guards or cameras that he wasn't seeing.

He found a side entrance and propped the door open. He found himself in a very dark and very long hallway. There was no other way for Peter but to descend into the dark and see where it let him.

The hallway curved which made Peter feel very dizzy given how little he could see. He almost missed the writing on the double steel door that caught his eyes: CRONUS ENTRANCE 17.

The door was heavy but Peter got himself in…and entered another dark and blurry room. It messed with Peter's senses as he found himself stumbling in the dark until he started hitting his thighs into something. His feet seemed to be tripping over themselves, until Peter reached his hand to the ground and realized his feet were tangled in an endless net of cords.

He slowly gave his eyes and ears time to readjust. There was a faint sound of a machine, almost like a loud computer fan. And another sound…a chorus of faint moans but he couldn't tell if they were echoing off the walls or if they really were surrounding him.

Seconds later, he saw little lights began to appear above. They were slowly coming on one at a time dimly lighting the ceiling.

Something cold brushed against his arm then.

He looked down and froze. Lying on a table by his side was a man almost completely naked, covered in wirings that went straight into his skin.

The man still had skin and bones but was pale and completely losing flesh. What terrified Peter more was that he was moving, his head slightly turned to Peter's direction.

"Help…me."

Peter stumbled back only to hit something else. He turned around.

It was another table with another man lying there with similar wires.

Peter's eyes went past the table and found a whole row of the same thing. He looked to the left and to the right.

He was surrounded by them…men and women on tables connected to a sea of cords and wires that consumed the floor.

They were moaning and screaming as their flesh was slowly being sucked away.

Peter wanted nothing more than to get out of there, but it was a struggle for his feet to move. After just taking a few steps, he tripped and accidentally tore off wires from several of the tables. He heard screaming from the persons whom lied on those tables. They went into massive seizures and then stopped moving.

Struggling to get up, Peter accidentally tugged a few more wires out killing the persons they were inserted into as well…not like any of these people had a chance of surviving anyway.

Meanwhile several guards had seen Peter in the mass of bodies and advanced toward him. Peter tried to flee but couldn't get through the masses fast enough.

The men grabbed Peter and took him to the center of the large room, which was elevated on what looked like a stage surrounded by the dying souls on the tables. All the wires from these tables crept towards the machine through the large computer that the stage stood on top of. The wires then came out of the stage floor and to the center of the room. A large steel chair stood in the very center of the entire thing. It's occupant wore a large head device filled with wires from the stage floor.

The guards brought Peter near the steel chair and released him there. Curiosity got the best of him and he looked to see who it was that occupied the chair.

Peter stood there in disbelief. The man sat there with his eyes closed, an emotionless emperor ruling over his dying horde. He slowly opened his eyes and only responded with "If it isn't one of my children who got away. Hello, Peter."

It was William Bell.

Peter was shaking at the knees. "What the hell is this? What the hell do you think you're doing?"

William Bell only replied, "Do you not see?"

Peter was confused.

"You stand in the center of what is now the final phase of my plan. To ensure that only one reality remains."

"Your final phase? What happened to the super soldiers?"

"Oh…are you referring to the ones back in the other reality? The one you got to spend 21 comfortable years of your life in?"

Peter was very confused. How did this William Bell know about him going to the other reality? None of it made sense, unless…

"There…there was never a second William Bell? You've been the same man in both worlds this whole time?"

"That is correct, Peter. The same man who ran Westwood with 'Dr. Walt' is the same man who stands before you now…the same man who worked with Nina Sharp on the foundation of Massive Dynamic. And now…I have created this machine…the CRONUS."

The humming of CRONUS got louder and the echoing moans and screams of its victims got louder.

"Cronus, as you well know, is the powerful Greek Titan who devoured his children, so must I absorb the abilities of my creations from this reality in order to create the world I desire. The subjects I've created back in the other world will serve as my protectors but those from here I have kept in harvest to wait for their abilities to mature so that I may absorb their abilities by slowly collecting the drug from their bodies…even if it means they all must die."

Peter hand instantly went at William Bell's neck. It was a good thing for Peter that William was unable to move with all the equipment on him.

"Where is she?!"

William's eyes leaned to one direction. Peter slowly let go and quickly jumped off the circular stage. He surveyed the area until he saw one table that stood out from all others. Not caring for all the wires he would trip on, or the guards that would pursue him, Peter rushed over to the table at the far end of the row.

Brushing away the long strands of blonde, Peter worst fears were confirmed.

"Olivia?"

Peter could not touch her with all the wires that were injected into her forehead. A white sheet was all that clothed her but even without having to lift it up, Peter knew that CRONUS was doing its work. Olivia was getting thinner and paler by the minute. Fortunately, she had not yet reached the horrid stage as the countless others in the room. She had been the most recent of victims to be connected to CRONUS and was still at a very early stage in the process.

Her chest rose up quickly and her eyes shot open. "Peter!" She was surprised but relieved to see Peter here, looming over her. At the same time, she felt awful…

…she did not want him to see her slowly dying like this.

"You…have to go…Get out of here…"

Before Peter could get a word in, the loud humming noise returned. Olivia cried out as she felt the wires in her spinal cord sucking at her. Peter didn't know what else to do besides hold her down. He didn't want her to accidentally stretch the wires out of her, knowing if she did, she would…

In her weak state, Olivia begged Peter one last time. "Leave me…save yourself."

Peter shook his head at her. "Liv, you know I've never been one to listen to the feds…and I'm not going to start now!"

Peter was just a few feet behind one of the smaller computers operating CRONUS. He was close to kicking the machine in (or at least throwing something hard at it), when William Bell's voice boomed over. "I wouldn't do that. CRONUS is powered to only operate by the will of my mind. Any physical interference you place on it, any wire you pull out will only kill Agent Dunham faster. Only I have the power to control CRONUS."

Peter saw the guards were getting off the stage and coming back for him.

It was now a hopeless situation. There was nothing that Peter could do for Olivia that wouldn't result in a quicker death. He almost didn't have any other choice but to leave her there to die. He was unable to bear the thought. All control was in the head of William Bell…who was mentally sucking away all the Cortexiphan out of Olivia.

"Olivia! Can you hear me?! I need you to listen to me!"

Peter had only one idea left…more like a theory really. Olivia was struggling to stay awake.

"Olivia…listen…you can stop this. You can keep this thing from killing you. You just have to will your mind to fight back. Don't let him win."

"Peter…"

The guards grabbed Peter and dragged him away. "Block it out, Liv! You can fight it! I believe in you!"

Peter was brought back to William Bell. "Foolish children you two were. Now that my last Cortexiphan subject has been brought back to her proper world, everything will now fall into perfect form. Do not fear, Peter. Her sacrifice will help create a more perfect world."

_SCREEEEEEECH!_

Peter and the guards in the room covered their ears.

William was jerking his head in pain. He growled. "It's Dunham. She's trying to challenge me!"

Peter tried to look over the room of dead and dying in search of Olivia, but couldn't see well from the stage.

"But she will not win. She can not fight me with a damaged mind…perhaps all she needs is a little reminder."

The humming and screeching noises circled the entire room as William Bell used CRONUS to enter Olivia Dunham's mind. Absorbing the Cortexiphan from her body was replaced by another priority…

He was going to restore her memories…the ones that Walter Bishop in the other reality had erased long ago…

***

"_Where is she?!" _

_The assistants were cowering at the sight of this buff militant stranger who had invaded their premises. "Where's my little girl?! I'm taking her out of this place right now!"_

_Dr. Bell pulled a frightened 4-year-old blonde girl by the hand into the main hall. She was afraid it would be another test until she saw the man in the army suit. She almost couldn't believe her eyes._

"_Daddy? Daddy?!"_

"_Olivia!"_

_Olivia was allowed to run into the arms of her father._

"_Oh Olivia. I'm so sorry your mother did this to you. I came as soon as I could. I'm going to have this place shut down and bring you home!"_

_Olivia hugged her father even tighter. She was afraid she was hurting him because she heard a strange moan coming from him. Olivia jumped back and saw her father rubbing his forehead. "Are you okay, Daddy?"_

"_I…I dunno. My head hurts all of the sudden."_

_Olivia immediately froze. This couldn't be what she feared. With every second slowly passing, her father's headache got worse…_

…_until a small cut and an unusual bulge slowly emerged from his forehead._

_Olivia started crying. "No! Not Daddy! Please, not Daddy!"_

_She could plead with Dr. Walt and Dr. Bell all she wanted, but they would just tell her what they told her before: that she was responsible for this happening._

_She tried to will her mind to stop this but she was still mentally weak. Her head was clouded from the endless abuse and beatings she had received and thus was unable to control her abilities._

_The bulge on Major Dunham's forehead got bigger and bigger._

_The last thing Olivia heard was him screaming in pain…and then a popping noise._

"_DADDY! NO!!!"_

_***_

Her screams of pain from CRONUS quickly turned to cries.

Olivia had killed her father…her own father…

She had killed him like she had other innocent beings.

Through tear stricken eyes, Olivia turned her sights towards Peter. It was all over now. She was left to slowly die and relive the horrible memories of the four years she regretted ever wanting to remember.

They will probably kill Peter. She didn't know if she could let another innocent person die on her account.

So much pain and anger consumed her. But she couldn't let this go on.

_Do it._

CRONUS was a powerful machine that knew her emotions were her greatest weakness. But she had to try…at least try to give Peter a chance to get away.

She would do it…for him.

William Bell suddenly began to shake in his chair. His counter-attack on Olivia seemed to be striking back at him in bits. But he stayed calm, insistent that he still had the upper hand.

Peter watched as William Bell began to twitch in intense and unusual ways, still fighting with the mind of one person down below who had enough life left to do this. Olivia was screaming from both pain and resistance. Slowly she was becoming more and more determined to win this battle of minds. A small line of blood began to form on Bell's forehead.

The computers began to make horrifying noises as the room began to fill with smoke.

A sudden bloody bulge appeared on William Bell's forehead. Peter had seen this before.

And then…two loud bursts: One of blood and one of fire.

The guards fled once they noticed that CRONUS was exploding. Peter blinked his eyes. He was horrified to see William Bell, now slumped over dead in his chair his head burst open.

Seconds later, the entire room began to shake.

Peter jumped off the stage and rushed back to Olivia. The wires had ejected themselves from Olivia the moment the explosions occurred. She now had holes bleeding out of her head and back but there would be no time to stop it. Peter scooped her into his arms as flaming debris began spewing out from the nearby computers. He shielded Olivia as best he could and navigated his way through the storm.

The lamps and other metal framing from the ceiling came crashing down into small pieces. Holding Olivia tighter, Peter dove under one of the tables as a large piece of metal came landing just inches away from the pair.

He was running out of the time now. His eyes searched for the nearest door and all he could do now…for Olivia's sake…was to make a run for it.

By some form of miracle they made it to the dark hallway and then to the nearest exit just as more debris began raining down.

He wasn't sure if he was even outside as it was still dark. All he knew was that he had to keep running...no matter how much debris fell, no matter how much his whole body hurt. He didn't even look back to see the mighty skyscraper that once housed CRONUS slowly collapse into ruins.


	18. END CHAPTER

Peter had been walking forever, blinded by the fog and dust that surrounded him. The only other life was slumped in his arms and there was no knowing if she was still alive. He was too scared to stop and check. For now, he would rather keep going until he found some adequate shelter.

Wherever he was, he hopes it's still Boston. There was no way of telling when much of what he passed by was either quarantined or in ruins.

Not to mention, it started to snow…in the middle of what's supposed to be June.

After walking for so long, the soreness in Peter's legs made him finally give in. He headed towards one of the collapsed brick buildings. A cement staircase still stood leading down to a basement. The basement itself was still intact. So Peter took his chances and kicked open the door.

The back of the basement had the makings of an apartment that been long abandoned, now home to numerous rats and spiders.

Peter got the bathtub running and went to work cleaning off the blood from Olivia's back and head. Afterward, he gently tucked Olivia into one of the beds, piling every possible blanket he could find.

Now that they were settled in, Peter could no longer hold it off. He had to know.

He looked up and saw Olivia's chest rising and falling, slow but close to normal. It was beautiful. He found himself holding her hand and kissing every one of her bony fingers so delicately as his eyes filled with tears.

For the next half hour, Peter continued to watch as Olivia remained in what was hopefully a peaceful sleep.

But soon, there was a sudden jolt from the bed. Olivia's eyes flashed open wide and it definitely looked as if she had woken from a nightmare. But she could barely move and began moaning in pain. Whatever CRONUS did to her, it barely gave her any ability to move without feeling pain.

She remained disoriented and pale as Peter tried to calm her down. She stared at Peter looking completely lost and confused for a very long time. He hoped the look on her face didn't mean what he feared it meant…that Olivia had lost her memory.

She struggled to move her lips. Her voice was so hoarse.

"…Peter?"

He smiled. "Yeah."

Olivia remained looking distraught…and soon she began to cry. "I remember…Oh god, Peter…I remember everything now!"

No matter how many more tears Peter wiped away fresh ones quickly arrived to take their place. Still, he stayed with her in her diminished state.

The memories had struck Olivia with such cruel force. Worse was when she started to realize that her life…even before she was taken to Westwood was a nightmare in itself.

--------

_Olivia's parents separated when she was just a baby. She had spent of majority of her time back then in her father's care and he treated her like any little girl would be treated by a loving father…like a special little princess._

_Things slowly began to change in the middle of her toddler-hood. Major Dunham had to go overseas and he couldn't give his daughter a normal life given the circumstances. Normally, it felt like the best decision was for Olivia to stay with her mother._

_But it was clear to Olivia that her mother did not show her the same love and kindness that Major Dunham had given her. The longer Olivia remained with her mother, the more she was neglected. Olivia was fed leftovers and water twice a day on average. She continued to wear baby clothes she had outgrown months ago as her mother wasn't going to waste money buying her new clothes. _

_It only took a few whips by her mother for Olivia to realize that it wasn't a good idea to cry. Sometimes, her mother would lock her in the walk-in closet whenever she had company over and keep her in there until Olivia was remembered._

_Her mother had always wanted a daughter…just not Olivia._

_This came to light on Olivia's third birthday. There was a gathering but it was not for her. Olivia was left to squirm and starve in the crib she had become too big for as she listened to her mother in the other room give an announcement with great applause. She was expecting a baby girl._

_Olivia could remember hear other conversational bits as well, like how they were going to name her Rachel, and how they were going to repaint the crib that Olivia was in._

_She even heard someone ask, "What are you going to do about the other one?" Immediately Olivia knew they were talking about her._

_The last she remembered was hearing something about a place that would take in children like her. Perhaps anyplace was better than here though she preferred being back with her daddy again._

_Months later, her very pregnant mother took Olivia on a long car ride (which she hoped was to see her father). She remained silent and hopeful even when the car stopped at the main entrance of a creepy gated facility. She watched her mother talk to two older men in white coats as they wrote a check and placed it in her hands. _

_The last thing Olivia remembered was her mother pulling her out of the car. She waited obediently on the curve even as she watched the car she came in sped away without her…_

_Olivia's new life in the lab would bore ironic similarities to life with her mother…except there was more crying, whippings, and even electric shocks. Too much work was demanded from Olivia that she couldn't keep up with and the lab assistants would beat her just to motivate her to work faster. The weekly injections she received during her first year didn't help matters._

_On the day her father tried to come rescue her…the day she killed him…Olivia was placed back into her cell with her father's blood still on her hands and clothes. That was the day when she gave up on hope. From then on out, she didn't scream or cry. She held all the pain in no matter how severe and submitted to her lowly status as a lab animal who was lucky to still be alive._

_Instead of kicking at her cell door, Olivia would retread to the far corner of the room. The ceiling light had been taken out long ago leaving her in total darkness. She preferred the darkness and loathed whenever the door opened and the light would seep in. That's when they would have to pull her out, hurt her for a few hours, then bring her back._

_She was quick to accept that this would be the routine._

_Then came the unusual event a few years later when she would hear a strange chipping noise coming from one wall of her cell. The noise was driving her crazy. She was close to screaming at it until she heard the voice of another child calling out "Hello? Someone in there?"_

_***_

_It was all starting to come together…to make sense in Olivia's mind. She imagined what happened was that the family that Olivia had been with for the past 21 years was the family that was once Alter-Olivia's. Somehow Walter convinced the mother to 'adopt' Olivia and to bury the past. Perhaps this version of her mother truly cared for Alter-Olivia and mourned for her when she died. It would explain Olivia's unexplainable resentment towards her…_

_Rachel had often been insistent that Olivia was adopted. She never believed the story that Olivia had disappeared to a special primary school during the first five years of her life. Olivia always thought that her adopted theory was just to get on Olivia's nerves for always being the misfit in the family. _

_In Olivia's mind, it was rather depressing, that she didn't have much love from either family._

-------

"Walter?"

Astrid had been extra careful around Walter in the lab. He became more unpredictable and obsessed with random things. His hand had been tracing an old childhood photo of Peter for hours. She didn't know if it was one of his Peter…or the Peter she had known and worked with.

"They haven't heard anything from William Bell. They…they think he might be dead." Astrid stood back. Her worst fear was to be killed for bringing a bad message and there was no knowing how Walter would react. She waited…

But Walter never turned to look at her. He was barely audible when he grumbled under his breath. "He probably is."

Astrid sighed. "You know, Broyles and Nina Sharp are doing everything they can to help."

"It was my creation though," said Walter. "Mine and Belly's that travel between realities possible. I don't know how two strangers I've never heard of could possibly be of much help."

"Well, in any case," said Astrid. "They're going to keep trying. We'll all keep trying, Walter. We can't give up. I'm sure Peter is still alive, and don't forget: Agent Dunham's with him. She's probably taking care of him as we speak."

Finally he turned to her with a gentle smile. "I suppose you could be right. Thank you, Astrid."

Astrid smiled. He finally remembered her name.

--------

In the following weeks, the world got colder and the snow heavier. A blizzard was soon to hit. Peter had become a pack rat in preparation. He would emerge only a few hours per day to search for food and medical supplies…anything that would help give Olivia a better chance at recovering.

She was less optimistic. Days would go by and she was still bedridden, unable to do anything more than stare at the ceiling above her. Her body remained skin and bones. It was humiliating how she couldn't swallow down food or even go to the bathroom without Peter's help. It made her feel more like she was 89 rather than 29.

And now, Olivia was the one who was waking up from nightmares that were her true memories. The effects of being connected to CRONUS had taken a slow, heavy toll on her. She doesn't believe that she will make it through the end of this unusual mid-year winter. Still, Peter continued to tend to her, massaging her frail limbs, comforting her with sharing memories of the past. Everything was done in part, not just for a seemingly hopeless being like her…but also for his own sanity.

"How are you feeling?" he asked her.

Olivia could slightly feel the flabby skin rubbing against the mattress. "Like a wrinkly prune."

Peter smirked. "Am I going to have to feed you something?"

"You just fed me 5 minutes ago, Peter. I swear you're treating me like your father was with you."

Peter shrugged off the thought. The last thing we wanted was to think about the world he had separated himself from.

But Olivia felt guilty about her choice of words. "It's my fault…I should've never suggested we come here."

Peter sighed. "Does it make you feel a li'l better to know that we destroyed the place that use to torture us or that seven kids are probably living the high life in another reality right now?"

"A little."

"Then don't regret it. I certainly don't regret being here with you right now."

His answer doesn't surprise her. "Well…is there anything you DO regret?"

"As a matter of fact…" said Peter. "I know I was quite the crybaby when you knew me. I'm a bit ashamed of myself."

"I think given what we had to go through, I cant say I blame you, Peter."

"I know," he said. "But I could've done a whole more to protect you."

Olivia yawned. "We were only kids back then."

She was tired and so was he.

"Could you cover that window, Peter?"

Peter grabbed the tarp and granted Olivia's request with a smile. "Still not liking those lights, huh?"

As it had been tradition since the very first night, Peter undressed himself then crawled into bed next to Olivia and undressed her till they were both wearing the bare minimal amount of clothing. Awkward as it was, Olivia had lost a lot of her ability to produce body heat and this was the least Peter could do to help her get through the colder days.

Oddly enough, it was peaceful and comforting to feel Peter's body warming her own as he gently wrapped his arms around her. It even helped her to sleep better at night.

"So," Olivia asked. "What happens now?"

"I dunno." Peter reached over and smooth away the hairs that covered her pale face. "I guess now we just…try and survive."

Olivia sighed. "Look, we both know there's a chance I probably won't make it through winter and…"

"Shh. No talking like that, alright?"

Olivia often remained quiet. To tell Peter anything about what she remembered was too upsetting for her. But Peter was forgiving. He was content snuggling up next to her, hearing her heartbeat in the dark. It didn't matter to him as long as she was still here with him…here and alive.

"We're never going home, are we?"

"Well, technically," said Peter. "This is our home, isn't it?" Olivia remained unconvinced. It pained Peter to think that maybe she was better off not remembering what she now did, even if it meant forgetting the bond that they had shared. He leaned over and placed a light kiss to her cheek. He shuddered deep down feeling how bony her cheeks were, much like the rest of her fragile body. A part of Peter feared that Olivia was right about her chances at surviving seeing as she was slowly wasting away and was absorbed of all hope.

Peter would have to keep hope alive for both of them now.

"We'll make it through, Olivia. No matter what happens…we're going to be fine."

Olivia eventually fell asleep while Peter couldn't help but stay up. He had to watch her, find confirmation for himself that they would make it.

The storm outside was getting bigger by the hour. Soon they would be trapped in that basement for god knows how long with a food supply that probably wouldn't last. There was no guarantee that even Peter would survive.

Deep down, Peter secretly missed Walter. He was so sorry that his father was in another reality crying for the son whom he lost a second time. He could imagine Walter working like a madman once more trying to find a way to come over to this reality and bring him back.

And should that fail, well…Peter still had one good thing going for him. Olivia didn't know, even back when they hid in that abandoned cottage that Peter secretly wished for the two of them to always be together, free and safe from everything that had brought them harm.

He would do everything to make sure that Olivia would survive…and then, his wish would finally come true again. If it came down to it, Peter and Olivia may have to build a new life for themselves…hopefully, a better one than all that they've endured.

It would take one step at a time. For now, Peter would fall asleep with Olivia in his arms and block away the thoughts of an uncertain future that was destined for both of them.

**___T_H_E____E_N_D_____**

_**So is it just me or does that dark uncertain ending warrant a sequel? **_

_**Well there's only one way to be sure…let's see what my reviewers think! ;)**_

_**Though seriously I am considering a sequel but it's still in planning stages and it probably wont be as long. We'll just see. Thanks for reading. I'm mentally exhausted so we'll see when I will write new stories. Peace out!**_


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